


like rum on the fire

by Kaatiba



Series: Cherry Wine [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ba Sing Se, Bonding, Chi Blocking, Episode: s02e20 The Crossroads of Destiny, F/M, Fire Nation Lore (Avatar), Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Missing Scene, POV Alternating, Pre-Slash, Protective Gaang, Slow Burn, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), What-If, Zuko (Avatar) whump, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko's Childhood (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 36,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaatiba/pseuds/Kaatiba
Summary: What if Katara got to know Zuko a bit better in the catacombs, and it altered his choice in Ba Sing Se?ORKatara unlocks Zuko's tragic backstory, finally gives him the hug he needs, and the rest is history
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Former Jet/Katara, Former Mai/Zuko, Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko
Series: Cherry Wine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798858
Comments: 293
Kudos: 1686
Collections: Zutara Month 2020





	1. The Confession

Katara had paced the same stretch of cavern floor so many times, she was surprised her heels hadn’t burned a pathway into the ground. She tensed a moment before she actually heard the noise of someone approaching. Suddenly, blindingly, a sliver of light pierced through the shadowed catacomb, temporarily blinding her.

She brought her hands to cover her eyes on instinct and heard the unfamiliar Dai Li agent call out, “You’ve got company!” followed by the tumble of dust and pebbles being dislodged and a raspy voice groaning and thudding, to land somewhere in front of her. 

By the time her eyes adjusted to the onslaught of light, the catacomb prison was once again sealed in darkness, save for the eerie unnatural green glow of the crystal stalactites surrounding her. She looked down to see a lanky teen with a shaggy head of black hair crouched down in long robes in Earth Kingdom, but when he looked up, she saw the familiar scar and bright yellow eyes.

In shock she cried out, “Zuko!” That was the last person she’d expected to see, but she suddenly remembered seeing him posing as a server in the upper ring, remembered how he had probably positioned himself near her, realized she was probably bait so he could finally catch Aang, and at the thought of being used like some damsel in distress her hands clenched again and her eyes narrowed in anger. 

She stood there, angry and defiant, waiting for him to smirk or boast about how his scheming had gotten him there or somehow explain himself or say something about honor, but he just slowly picked himself off the ground, dusting the dirt off his lap. 

“Hello, Katara.” 

Katar simply huffed in response. He shrugged, glancing away awkwardly.She searched his familiar face, but saw only a calm resignation. She realized with a jolt this was the closest she’d ever really been to him at all. Up close, without his ponytail and fire nation armor, she realized just how young he looked. For a figure that had seemed menacing and larger than life ever since he showed up in the South Pole, bringing with him the black ash and painful flashbacks of her mother’s murder, he wasn’t that much taller than her. 

And aside from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of him at the tea shop, this was the first time she was really seeing him with his hair grown out quite so long. It made him look..softer. She felt her hands unclench. Hunched over, fiddling with his fingers, he looked like a normal boy. If it weren’t for the eyes, and of course, the horrible scar, she might not have recognized him at all as the prince who’d relentlessly chased them halfway across the world. 

After he got no response, Zuko slouched away from her to go sulk a few feet away. For lack of anything better to do, Katara resumed her pacing, though now she was discreetly throwing looks his way and studying him for any signs of attack. Though part of her paranoid hypervigilance died down when he sighed tiredly and sat cross legged on the ground, turned away from her. In other circumstances, she might’ve found his little pout and brooding routine to be somewhat amusing, but she was too worked up for humor at the moment. 

Hours’ (possibly even weeks’) worth of anxiety and fear and stress had bubbled up in her, finally reaching their breaking point stuck underground with nothing and no one to fight against, and now, a target had very literally fallen into her lap. Well, she’d take it. She needed to rail against something, otherwise she was going to give herself a small heart attack.

With a jerky movement, she spun towards him, interrupting the rhythm of her pacing, and breaking her stubborn silence. “Why did they throw you in here?” she demanded. She put her hand on her hip, (in what she hated to admit was a very mom-like gesture) and waited for an answer. Zuko said nothing. His bent over shoulder blades didn’t so much as flinch to her increased frustration.

“Oh, wait, let me guess; It's a trap!” She goaded him, “so that when Aang shows up to help me, you can finally have him in your little Fire Nation clutches!” she sneered nastily, but still, the only response she got was a turn of his head, putting his scar on full display, before he faced forward again, ignoring her to her infinite fury.

“You're a terrible person! You know that? Always following us! Hunting the Avatar! Trying to capture the world's last hope for peace!” He tensed slightly as she yelled. 

Victoriously, she paused, voice lowering, ready to go for the jugular, “But what do you care? You're the Fire Lord's son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood!” she spit, putting as much contempt and venom into her words as possible. 

At that, she finally seemed to have struck a nerve and he finally turned towards her. _Good_ , she thought, _I won’t let him ignore me_. “You don't know what you're talking about!” his voice was defensive and agitated, but still more measured than hers.

“I don't? How dare you!” As if she wasn’t a victim of the Fire Nation’s infinite cruelty. As if, in the past few months of traveling around the world with Aang, he still thought she was some stupid peasant girl who couldn’t comprehend something as big as a war and politics. His casual dismissal broke something in her, and she felt her throat get tight as angry tears pricked her eyes. 

“You have no idea what this war has put me through!” she turned, crouching down and pulling her knees to her chest in some semblance of comfort, “Me personally!” She began to lightly rock herself back and forth on her heels, rocking herself the way no one had done for her since her mother was killed. She fingered her mother’s necklace, the one _he_ took, and felt the tears finally fall down her cheeks. In a more broken voice she choked out, “The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.”

The confession hung in the air. She expected him to laugh or deny it or just stay silent, and not even the shock of hearing him say in an almost-whisper “I’m sorry” could stop the sobs that had already started building in her chest. 

Her shoulder continued shaking as she heard him shifting behind her, “That's something we have in common.” That unexpected statement was finally enough to shock her into stillness for a second, her eyes widening, and her body beginning to twist around, to see if he was lying. She quickly wiped away her remaining tears before facing him, in case this was all some ploy of his to fake sympathy. 

She turned slowly, “What do you mean? Wasn’t your mother Fire Nation too!” she accused, but there wasn’t any heat left in it. It took all her emotional energy just to face him properly, as they both sat cross legged a few yards from each other, in some sort of physical stalemate. 

“Yes,” he ducked his head, letting his fringe cover his face, making him seem even smaller than before. “But she wasn’t like..others,” he took a deep breath, “She wasn’t like my father.” 

“But she was still married to him! She had to have known what a monster he was,” Katara argued, not ready to absolve a Fire Nation monarch on the word of one sort-of enemy. _When did it become “sort-of”?_ she wondered absently.

“He’s not-” Zuko’s fist clenched in his lap, then seemed to compulsively reach for his left-eye (his scar, she noted) before dropping it back in his lap, giving up the sentiment. “...She used to take us to see plays because she loved theater, and art, an-and poetry, and she always tried to reason with Father when he got…” Katara watched his hand make another compulsive twitch before he stilled it, “when he got strict.” 

Katara’s heart clenched a bit hearing the hollowness in the boy’s voice. Part of her had always assumed that being Ozai’s son meant being spoiled and pampered and coddled beyond belief, but looking at the sag in the prince’s shoulders, she felt she’d been wrong. To her shame, she realized she’d never considered the possibility that Ozai’s own family wouldn’t be shielded from his cruelty. Her heart skipped a bit at the implications. 

She barely dared to breathe, waiting for him to keep talking, waiting for him to collect his thoughts. She’d said her piece earlier, now she was ready to maybe listen. _It’s not like there’s anything else to do down here but talk_ , she told herself. _Just killing time_.

“There’s this garden..at the palace,” he looked up at her nervously at the mention of the Fire Nation palace, and she barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, “and this turtleduck pond..We used to go out there to feed them, and sometimes,” closed his eyes like the memory haunted him “she’d read or sing to me.”

Katara looked down quickly, too cowardly to face him if he started crying or showed too much real human emotion. All of a sudden, her easy, pure rage had twisted into something heavier in her chest. Now, her anger towards him was mixed with feelings of her own guilt and shame and maybe even a bit of..sympathy. She felt even worse than before. She felt confused. Like a part of her worldview was getting frayed at the seams. 

“So what happened to her?” she asked softly after a beat. 

Zuko didn’t look up, and his smoky voice was as quiet as she’d ever heard it, “I don’t know.”

“How?..”

He shrugged again, “One day she was there, and the next she just...she was just gone.” 

Katara’s mind filled with the traumatic image of her mother’s body. Though Hakoda and a handful of elder tribesmen had immediately dragged her away from the tent, she’d never be able to forget the burned and bloody visage of her mother’s once lovely face. It visited her in nightmares even now. Still, while that image was nauseating and scarring, she couldn’t imagine just _not_ knowing what had become of her mother. 

“My father knew what happened to her, but he...just pretended like she never existed.” Katara noted the way Zuko pulled his own knees to his chest, mirroring her position. “I still don’t know if she’s alive or not,” he confessed. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Zuko's eyes met her, his good eye widening in surprise. Katara herself felt a little shocked at the statement. Afterall, why should she apologize to the enemy? To her mother’s _murderers_? But looking at the ragged boy across from her, she suddenly knew that he was not that murderer. He was not his father. In that moment at least, he was not her enemy either. 

“ _I’m_ sorry,” he said again. “No one should have to lose their mother.” And she could tell he really meant it. 

After that, they lapsed into a contemplative silence. It was still awkward, but not hostile like before. Eventually, Katara started to feel pinpricks in her legs where they were falling asleep, so she stood back up to resume her pacing, though less frenetic this time. Eventually Zuko also stood, though he remained relatively still. With a small hint of amusement, Katara thought he seemed rather well practiced in brooding quietly. 

“I'm sorry I yelled at you before,” she said, apologetically. She sort of wished he would turn around to face her again, she didn’t like looking at his hunched up shoulders. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he responded quietly, surprising Katara. She was seeing lots of new sides of him today, but it was still jarring to see the once irrationally angry prince so humbled and resigned to her criticism, though it wasn’t bad. Still, he looked like a kicked puppy, and she felt the need to explain herself a bit,

“It's just that for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.” For some reason, she suddenly needed him to understand. 

“My face?” she couldn’t quite read him with his back turned. “I see,” he breathed out, sounding distinctly more dejected than before, and with horror, she saw him reach up to touch his scar, turning away in shame. 

“No, no! That's-that's not what I mean,” she approached him hesitantly. Despite everything he’d done to them, she couldn’t stand the idea of Zuko thinking his disfigurement was what made her judge him so harshly. Couldn’t stomach him thinking she thought it made him some kind of monster...And more and more, she was beginning to feel like he really _wasn’t_ a monster like his father was. 

But Zuko didn’t seem to believe her, “It's okay.” _It’s not!_ She thought, _I’d never judge you for that!_

He continued, “I used to think this scar marked me, the mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever,” _Huh? Banished? Cursed?_ “But lately, I've realized I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free of my mark.”

Katara couldn’t get past the first part. “What do you mean by..banished?”

He finally turned to her, eyebrow high, “You really don’t know?”

Her temper flared back up, and she crossed her arms grumpily, not enjoying feeling uninformed, “I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”

“Oh,” he breathed, rubbing his neck a bit, “I guess, I mean..well I guess I just assumed everyone knew about that, but I don’t suppose you’d have reason to know outside the Fire Nation really.” 

She nodded, mullified. “So explain.” 

He turned away again, voice cracking slightly to her dismay, “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” she nudged softly. 

He straightened his shoulder stoically, bracingly. “My father banished me from the Fire Nation when I was 13.”

Katara’s mouth gaped, “Banished, like, sent you away?”

“Yes, that is what the word means,” he snarked mildly. 

“When you were 13?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” she breathed. She tried to imagine her father sending her or Sokka away from the tribe for any reason, but none came. It just wouldn’t happen. What could push a parent to do that? Her previous paranoia crept back up, _Did Zuko do something terrible?_ She wondered, but then she remembered he was just a child. She waited for an answer. 

“I..spoke out of turn. In a war meeting. It was disrespectful.” Katara wanted to laugh, it sounded so unbelievable. _Exiling a child for mouthing off?_ Surely there was more. 

“So you embarrassed your Dad in front of his generals? That was _it_?” She’d moved so that she was now facing him, though his head remained bowed, eyes not meeting hers. 

His eyes caught hers briefly looking surprised, “No, no. I spoke against one of the generals, he-he wanted to sacrifice a whole squadron of new recruits as a diversion to take out a larger Earth Kingdom battalion, and I- I said I thought it was wrong.” Zuko bowed his head like he was recalling something shameful.

“But, but you were right! That’s completely awful!” Katara sputtered indignantly. Fire Nation soldiers or not, those were human beings, likely nothing more than young boys. Katara flinched against the thought of Sokka being sent off to war as nothing more than cannon fodder. _Only the Fire Nation would conceive of something that terrible_ , she thought. 

Instead of looking vindicated, however, Zuko looked at her sadly, almost like he was pitying her naivete, which pissed her off. “But it wasn’t my place to speak. I wasn’t even invited to go to that meeting.”

“So that’s it, huh? One strike and you’re out?!” Katara fumed, hating all the suffocating rules of the Fire Nation and not understanding how a culture so cold and heartless could call _her_ people savages. 

“No,” Zuko’s head was now bowed so low, she was surprised he didn’t topple over. Even with his naturally raspy voice, his words sounded incredibly strained. “I had a chance to right that wrong, to restore my honor-” _there he goes_ , she thought “-through Agni Kai.”

“I’ve never heard of-”

“A traditional firebender duel. It only ends when someone is burned,” his voice was now a hiss that echoed in the damp chamber. With a growing feeling of unease, Katara’s eyes found the marred skin around his eyes. Obviously a burn mark of some kind. Easily passed off by Sokka and Aang as a firebender training accident from youth. But now..she felt nauseous, but didn’t rush Zuko to say anything. 

“I accepted because I knew I could beat the old general whose plan I attacked.” _Did something go wrong, did he lose then?_ She wondered. 

“There was a crowd- all the nobles, generals, aristocracy- that came to watch, a whole arena full-” Katara worriedly noticed the way Zuko was now shaking all over, his voice soft, but firm, like he was in a trance. It seemed like each word hurt him, but now that he was talking, he couldn’t stop, and she dared not try to stop him. 

“I was arrogant, I was cocky, but then I turned around an-and, it wasn’t the general,” he breathed in a ragged breath while Katara held her own, “i-it was him..it was my father.” Katara couldn’t help but give out a small gasp at this. It made no sense, a Firelord fighting his own son? His 13 year old son?

“You see,” Zuko smirked humorlessly, “because I’d spoken out in the Firelord’s war room, he was the one I needed to duel to restore my honor, but I-” he closed his eyes tight, and Katara instinctively drew closer to him, “I was weak, I couldn’t bear t-to fight him, so I got down on the ground-” Katara’s eyes stung “-and I told him I was his loyal son..that I was s-sorry-” tears were now falling freely down Zuko’s good cheek, “-and he told me I would fight for my honor, but I kept refusing, and….” 

Katara couldn’t keep herself from wrapping her smaller fingers around his shaking hands, even as he refused to look at her, cheeks glistening, but his voice was monotone when he spoke again, “he told me that I would learn respect and that suffering would be my teacher, then he put his hand-” Zuko took Katara’s own trembling hand and placed it over his left eye, and with absolute horror, her mind finished the story. 

Katara was frozen in shock. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to kill someone. Not just anyone, actually, Firelord Ozai. How had she never noticed the way to edges of the scar resembled a single flame, a hand. The hand of a cruel, abusive, tyrannical father. 

“N-nobody stopped him?” her voice was weak. “Who would have?” his humorless smirk was back as he dropped her hand. “I woke up on the wani with my uncle, a small crew, and the terms of my banishment: only come back with the Avatar.” 

“When you were 13?” He nodded. Three years before they broke Aang out of the iceberg. Three years before anyone knew the Avatar was still alive. Like a punch to the gut, Katara realized what that meant. Zuko was never meant to go back home. His father burned him then sent him to die in exile. He chased Aang so relentlessly, not for fun or for a trophy or for sheer evil like she’d imagined, but to go home. 

While her worldview was getting torn to shreds, and her heart was collapsing, Zuko withdrew from her, breathing heavily, wiping his face embarrassedly and pinching his nose, scowling. “I don’t know why I’m telling you, some random water tribe peasant-” But Katara wouldn’t let him do that, not then. Before he could do anything to stop her, Katara flung her arms around his neck.

“What are you doing!?” he sputtered, tensing beneath her.

“I’m hugging you, you absolute jerk.” His shoulders dropped a hair.

“Why?”

She just squeezed tighter, “Shut up, Zuko, just shut up for once.”

And amazingly, he did just that. She felt him hesitantly lift his arms to encircle her as well. Then just as hesitantly squeeze. Then eventually sag into the gesture bonelessly. Katara wondered when was the last time someone gave him a hug? His mother? Maybe his Uncle would’ve tried, but she couldn’t imagine the Zuko she was used to letting that happen. 

That’s why even after the socially acceptable amount of time to hug your maybe-not-enemy-maybe-possible-ally-maybe-friend had elapsed, she held on. Something had definitely changed. In Zuko. In her understanding of him. In their relationship. She didn’t know how this would affect them once they got out of their prison and the spell was broken, but until then she didn’t want to let go of the bruised and broken boy she’d spent so long resenting. 

She finally pulled back, looking him directly in his eyes. She could now begin to appreciate the unique beauty of the Fire Nation gold eyes she’d so hated, and admire his features, no longer twisted into a scowl.

“You know,” she hedged, “I have healing abilities, and I know-” she stopped him as she could tell he was going to interrupt “-that it’s a scar, but I have water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I've been saving it for something important. If you asked me to, I would give it to you.”

After a long moment of borderline uncomfortable eye contact and tense silence, Zuko wordlessly shook his head. “Even if no one else could see it, it would always be there to me, and I..I’m done being ashamed, and I need to remember _why_ I’ve changed. It’s..it’s part of who I am, Katara. You should save it for something that’s life-or-death.” 

Katara simply nodded. “Good.” She gently placed her fingertips against the edge of the scar. It was so Zuko. And right now, she realized that Zuko was beautiful. And she was glad he didn’t take her up on the offer. 

Suddenly a large crash filled the catacomb, and a cloud of dust clogged their vision, sending them jumping apart and getting into their fighting stances. Quickly, Katara realized what had happened. “Aang!” she hailed him. She thought about running over to hug him like she’d imagined earlier, but now, she felt hesitant to leave Zuko’s side. Like the minute she did, the new, tenuous, inexplicable bond they’d just formed might be broken. And to her surprise, the thought of losing it made her incredibly sad. 

She turned towards him, and surprising herself, quickly pulled off her mother’s necklace, placing it into Zuko’s palm. She could feel Aang’s confused and jealous stare at her back and General Iroh’s more curious gaze, but she tried to block them out. “Katara, what are you doing!” he hissed at her, but she just wrapped his fingers around it. 

“This time,” she smirked a bit, “I’m _giving_ it to you. On loan at least, just...let it remind you of one thing, Zuko.”

“What?” 

“I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you have the capacity for good in you..the capacity for love. And because you trusted enough to confide in me, now I’m trusting you.” She stared at him for a second, searching once again. “ _Please_ , Zuko, don’t make me wrong.”

Katara couldn’t explain it, but she felt like they were at a crossroads. At a turning point. That Zuko had an important choice to make, here, tonight. As Aang dragged her away to go help their friends and flee, she turned back and locked eyes with Zuko one last time.

She _really_ hoped he would make the right choice. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic playlist on Spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1z5qoWROjZhw8vbd3pycfz?si=gYBWT_qaTGaKQFrxtPE03Q


	2. The Choice

“ _Why_ , Uncle?” Zuko’s voice cracked a bit, reminding him uncomfortably of a dumb 13 year old begging to be let into a fateful war meeting. He was still shaken by his confusing interaction with the waterbender- _no, with Katara_ , he corrected himself. He didn’t know what was happening, though he took some solace in his Uncle’s solid presence. 

_Why was his Uncle working with the Avatar? Why had Zuko just let him walk away? Had he really given up his chase after all? Was he the failure his father thought he was?_

“You're not the man you used to be, Zuko,” his Uncle said, of course turning to the abstract to explain, “You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been.” Zuko wanted to scream at him: _free? You had to bust me out of prison just now_ , though deep down he had an inkling of what his Uncle meant.

His mind filled with the sounds of a bustling tea shop, the feel of Jin’s soft lips on his, the lights of the lower rings seen through their new apartment’s windows. The sights and sounds of a life made from scratch, a fresh start. 

“And now you have come to the crossroads of your destiny,” Iroh exclaimed, pulling his hand into a passionate fist, “It's time for you to _choose_ .” Zuko closed his eyes, needing more time, more clarity, he just didn’t understand- “It's time for you to choose _good_ ,” his Uncle finished emphatically.

Just as he did, a large explosion shook Zuko down to his bones, causing him to cry out. Before he even had time to get into a fighting stance, a wave of sharp crystal stalactites erupted from the ground, pinning his Uncle in place. 

Snapping out of his shock, Zuko crouched down, arms up to face Azula and two Dai Li agents as they slid down from the sides of the chamber. “I expected this kind of treachery from you, Uncle,” Azula said in her usual derisive tone, and Zuko, bristling at her tone moved in front of his Uncle, ready to protect him against his sister’s fire, outmatched or not, but Azula merely glided towards him, arms at her side. 

“But _Zuko_ ,” her tone grew honeyed, “ _Prince_ Zuko,” she paused, “you're a lot of things, but you're not a _traitor_ ,” her eyebrow raised in challenge, “ _Are_ you?”

Zuko fought down his instinct to defend himself, to declare his undying loyalty to the Fire Nation. He knew she was goading him, and he struggled not to rise to the bait. Not yet, at least. 

First, he needed to make sure Uncle was safe. “Release him immediately!” he demanded petulantly, well aware he had no real bargaining power here. 

Azula didn’t even raise an eyebrow, simply cocking her head to the side as if considering, though he knew every word out of her mouth was calculated and meant to hit its target precisely.

In an almost comforting tone, she said, “It's not too late for you, Zuko.” 

_Not Zuzu, just Zuko. The voice that used to boss him around on a beach on Ember Island, hand him a towel after pushing him into the waves and call him a “dum dum”. The voice of his sister, as chilling and slippery and alluring as ever_ : “You can still redeem yourself.”

The voice of his sister, that he wanted to love as much as he hated. The words he’d lost hope of hearing since reaching Ba Sing Se. His heart stuttered, the tension behind his eyes only growing as he felt dizzy with confusion and mistrust. At her, at himself. 

He clenched his fists harder, trying not to scream, and in doing so, he felt the edge of the ribbon pull against the veins of his wrist. Katara’s necklace. A missing mother’s necklace. A bargaining chip. A reminder.

_“I think you have the capacity for good in you..”_ Katara’s voice came swimming back to him.

Behind him, Uncle cried out, “The kind of redemption she offers is not for you!” causing Azula to turn her sharp gaze over Zuko’s shoulder, where he was too paralyzed to look back himself.

“Why don't you let _him_ decide, Uncle?” she reprimanded.

_“I’m trusting you.” Big blue eyes. So caring. So easy to manipulate._

Now, gold eyes- _like mine, like mother’s_ \- turned back to him, softening again with something that looked like love.

( _Azula always lies, Azula always lies_ )

“I _need_ you, Zuko.” _I was the big brother, but Azula never needed anyone but herself_ \- 

“I've plotted every move of this day,” she made a fist, “this glorious day in Fire Nation history, and the only way we win is _together_.” 

_Together, like old times, before Azula became a prodigy and Ozai started grooming her, they played games together, he can faintly remember the sound of shared laughter, sandcastles-_

“At the end of this day, you will have your honor back-” 

_Three years, three years, three years, all for that singular purpose_ \- 

“You will have Father's love-”

_His knees hitting the ground, begging, ‘I am your loyal son!’_ \- 

“You will have everything you want.”

Again, Uncle’s voice implored him, calmer this time, but Zuko barely heard him say, “I am begging you. Look into your heart and see what it is that you truly want.” His heart was simply beating too loudly in his ears. He closed his eyes, facing away from either Iroh or Azula.

_What do I want? What do I want? What do I want?_

“You are free to choose,” Azula said simply, leaving Zuko at even more of a loss.

_Azula manipulates, Azula doesn’t let me choose. Does that mean she’s being genuine now?_

_(Azula always lies.)_

His sister held up her right hand, signaling the Dai Li agents to disappear, while she herself calmly walked past Zuko in all his inner turmoil. 

He watched her walk past Uncle, following the same tunnel Katara and Aang had taken. 

_“_ Please, _Zuko, don’t make me wrong.”_

_A weight on his right wrist._

_“I_ need _you, Zuko.”_

_the tightness of the left side of his face that never quite went away._

Inhaling deeply, Zuko spun on his right heel, making his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I suck I know..but more to come.


	3. The Change

“We’ve gotta find Sokka and Toph!” Katara yelled over the sound of her own laboured breathing as she and Aang ran through the maze of the catacombs. Before Aang could respond, they both jolted to a stop, turning in time to see a blinding bolt of blue lightning.

Katara felt the rumble of earth beneath her feet as Aang summoned a large pillar of earth to block Azula’s attack. Even then, they were both forced back by the collision, and Katara’s eyes watered from the explosion of dust. Azula, of course, looked calm and unfazed, smoke streaming from her extended index finger.

Katara preemptively blocked the next bolt of lightning, summoning a wave from the underwater stream parallel to them as she ran forward, adrenaline coursing through her. She felt a thud of satisfaction as the gallons of water all converged on top of Azula’s head at once, but then scowled as it was immediately vaporized by Azula’s defense, shrouding the predator in a cloud of fog. 

Out of her periphery she saw Aang step towards her, both of them tensed, scanning the room for signs of the Fire Princess. Suddenly, out of the fog, Azula sprung, kicking fire bolts at them, as she landed like a large cat on one of the jutting out rocks, high above, but the twin razor sharp streams of water that Aang and Katara, in sync from months of training, sent the rocky spire tumbling out from underneath her. It caused Azula to give a soft gasp to Katara’s smug pride, before she landed between Katara and Aang on the stone floor. 

They’d reached an impasse. Azula stood, both arms poised and ready to attack. Katara knew they had the upperhand in their position, and that they had Azula outnumbered. But even though it grated her pride, Katara had to admit she didn’t know if they had Azula outmatched. 

Suddenly, another blast shook the chamber, temporarily blinding their vision. This time the flames were a burning orange, not blue. Katara felt her already rapid heartbeat speed up even further as she, along with Aang and Azula turned to see the source. 

It was Zuko.

_“I’ve changed.” Katara had believed him._

_“I’m trusting you,” she’d said. Was she an idiot?_

He’d shed his long Earth Kingdom outer robes, arms bare in a simple tunic. She noted how his toned muscles were tensed, like a cobra ready to strike. He was either their best hope to escape Azula or the formidable enemy that would tip the scales against them. Katara wanted to choke on her own anxiety and doubt. 

Watching the way his narrowed yellow eyes (predatory, like his sister’s) darted between her and Aang and Azula, Katara wasn’t sure Zuko knew who he came here to attack either. He never seemed to have a plan, did he? Always acting on instinct. She was either going to kiss or kill him for it now. 

Zuko stared down Azula. 

His eyes slid to Aang, who Katara heard let out a soft gasp- _No, no, no, he’s going for Aang_ -

before she heard his “huh!” and felt the large burst of flames. Ready to protect Aang, Katara summoned a new wave, but when she turned to send it to shield her friend, he was staring wide eyed at - _Oh_ ! _Zuko attacked his sister_ , she thought, stunned as blue and orange flames collided, dispersing heat of such intensity, Katara felt sweat prickle her hairline. 

She didn’t have time to properly examine the feeling in her chest. _Relief, hope, joy, faith_? She wanted to pretend she knew he’d help them, but she’d be lying to herself. She’d had no idea what choice Zuko would make. She’d also acted out of instinct when she gave him that hug, that necklace, that parting look. 

But there’d be time to feel vindicated later. Right now, she chose to help Zuko, calling the water towards her and pushing it out around Zuko to act like a shield, while Aang, pushed Azula farther back into the recesses of the chamber with a gust of air. 

Finally losing some of her composure, Azula snarled, hands sparking blue. Then, laughing, hands up, she crooned “I know when I’m outmatched.” _And they all remembered how this act ended last time._

“Oh Zuzu,” she continued redirecting her gaze, biding time, “once a coward, always a coward. You could’ve had everything you ever wanted, your honor, power, respect, Father’s love..Except, that last one was always a lie, now wasn’t it?”

“Shut up!” Zuko snarled, sending a fireball her way, which she easily deflected, still walking backwards as they slowly trapped her in. 

“You’re _weak_ , brother,” the teasing tone in Azula’s voice was gone, her voice now deadly flat, making Katara shiver a bit. “You’ve always been weak. Even when we were kids, you needed _Mom_ to protect you,” she seethed.

Katara looked uneasily at Aang, knowing he was unwilling to deliver a deathblow, but knowing they couldn’t let Azula stall forever. 

“Now, you just hide behind Uncle’s skirt like a pathetic little boy. Mom’s _gone_ , Zuzu. Soon, Uncle will be too-” 

Zuko raised his hand in warning, and Katara saw the exact minute that Azula’s sharp eyes narrowed in on the glint of the medallion hanging from Zuko’s right hand. 

“Who are you going to let die on your watch now?” She asked, smile curling her lips, laughing at her brother before turning her gaze to land on-

_Oh._

Katara tastes the electricity before she sees the familiar arc of pure blue energy streaming towards her chest. 


	4. The Cheek Kiss

Time grinds to a halt, and Katara can vaguely hear Aang screaming her name, the echo of many feet on stone.

She can taste her heartbeat in her chest, and knows it will be her last one. She just wonders if she’ll see her Mom again. She hopes Sokka and Hakoda can take care of each other. 

And then, as if in slow motion, she feels more than sees the impact of something hitting her from the side. She lets out a silent scream as electricity singes the end of her braid, the smell of burnt hair, and the adrenaline leaving her shaking. She barely feels it when she hits the ground, too shocked to notice what’ll turn out to be a cracked rib. 

Things go purple then black for a moment, before the ceiling of a cave reappears above her. 

Something-  _ no _ ,  _ someone-  _ is on top of her. They’re also shaking. She blinks and wiggles her toes slowly, trying to ground herself. She feels a hand behind her head. Dazedly, she realizes that’s what kept her skull from cracking on the stone. Then she realizes the person whose chest is heaving right above hers is what kept her from getting electrocuted to death. 

She wants to say thank you, but when she goes to open her mouth, she dry heaves, automatically pulling away from her savior, who falls to the ground next to her. Okay, maybe she did hit her head a little bit. 

She glances over to see the familiar shaggy hair and the now-familiar eyes, barely open. 

“Zuko!” She’d said the same thing not 12 hours ago, but now her shock is of a very different nature. She shuffles forward on her hands and knees to inspect him, hands shaking.

“Did you-” she has to clear her voice “-did you just take a lightning bolt?...For me?”

Zuko coughs, and his good eye is still barely open, but the edge of his mouth curls in the first genuine smile she thinks she’s ever seen him give. 

“No,” he grouses. Her searching eyes find the gash of singed flesh on his right upper bicep. She scoffs, huffing like she’d done earlier that day, though this time, she wants to cry in relief, not anger. “Maybe a little bit,” he admits matter of factly. 

Sputtering a disbelieving laugh, Katara pulls water over her hands, bringing them down gently above the burned skin. “It won’t scar,” she promises softly. He nods. It’s too quiet all around them. 

Looking up, suddenly, remembering their precarious situation, she doesn’t know what she’s looking at. Standing, she sees a whole battalion of Dai Li agents on the ground looking very...dead. Part of her feels indifferent, but the other part hopes they’re simply knocked out. 

She doesn’t see Azula anywhere. But she does catch sight of the back of Aang’s arrow tattoo. “Aang?” she calls, but gets no response. Now that she’s looking, she can see his small frame is hunched over in...fear?  _ No _ ...Shame?

Suddenly, she understands what must have happened. While Zuko’s protective instinct had let him tackle Katara before it was too late, Aang’s anger at Azula’s sneak attack must have triggered the Avatar state. That’s how he’d defeated all the Dai Li reinforcements on his own. 

Azula, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. There were still more Dai Li in the city, and with Azula still on the loose...Well, they still weren’t safe. They still needed to run. Fast. With one last check to make sure Zuko was okay, she moved over towards her guilty friend.

“Aang?” she softly placed her hands on his shoulders. He seemed even more agitated at her touch. “Aang,” she tried again, “You did what you had to do! You-you saved us! Why are you so upset?” She genuinely didn’t understand. 

“Because Katara! I didn’t save  _ you _ ,” he let out a small sigh, looking away from her, “Zuko did. If it weren’t for him, you would’ve...what’s the point of having all this power if I couldn’t protect the person I love the most?” He turned to her with his large, beseeching gray eyes, and Katara sucked in a breath at the possible implications of that statement. 

Filing that away for a later conversation, she simply leaned down to hug the boy. “You’re the Avatar. You protect  _ all  _ of us.” Seeming somewhat nullified, he leaned into the embrace, until a grunt broke them apart. 

She looked back to see Zuko, awkwardly rubbing his elbow. “You have to get out of here, Azula will be back..with reinforcements” he added unnecessarily. She nodded, but then paused. “Don’t you mean ‘we’?” she corrected, raising an eyebrow.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“I can’t just come with you! I can’t just...join up with the  _ Avatar _ !” Katara rolled her eyes.  _ As if he hadn’t just done exactly that.  _

“My name is  _ Aang _ ,” the monk pulled himself to his feet, “And Katara is right, Zuko. Even if we didn’t want you to come and-” he glanced at Katara for confirmation “-and I think we do, we wouldn’t leave you to face Azula’s wrath alone.”

Katara nodded. “So let’s go get your Uncle, and then find the others, and finally leave this  _ stupid  _ city.”

After a moment of stubborn silence, Zuko finally nodded back. “Fine.”

“Great!” Aang said, bouncing back quickly and running ahead. Before Zuko and Katara could follow at a less exuberant pace, Katara grabbed Zuko’s uninjured arm. 

“What?” he asked curiously with a slight pout on his face.

_ Here’s to instinct over plans.  _

She leaned upwards to place a kiss on his cheek. The side with the scar.

She almost laughed at the way his unmarred cheek flushed, and his eyes widened comically. “What was that for?”

“For not letting me be wrong,” she said.

Her necklace was still sitting on his wrist, but she’d let him keep it there for now. 


	5. The Flight

The Earth Kingdom had fallen, and Zuko somehow found himself on the back of a monstrous, furry bison. Ba Sing Se was quickly becoming a dot on the horizon line.  _ Good riddance _ , he thought. 

It was dark now, and between the setting of the sun coupled with the exhaustion of fighting his sister, switching sides, then saving Katara from her lightning blast, he was ready to fall asleep where he sat on the overcrowded saddle.

Unfortunately, he feared if he fell asleep now, Sokka might slit his throat. The Water Tribe boy hadn’t stopped glaring at him since their unceremonious meeting when Katara and Aang had ushered a harried Zuko and his Uncle onto Appa, promising to explain everything later. 

_ “Do you trust me, Sokka?” Katara had patiently put her hand on her brother’s shoulder. _

_ “Yes, but-” Katara cut him off with a Mom-glare.  _

_ “No buts. You trust me, and I trust Zuko. He saved my life, Sokka. You can interrogate him later, after we get King Kuei and ourselves somewhere safe.” _

Sokka had no choice but to follow the Avatar and his sister’s lead, but he hadn’t let go of his boomerang yet. Zuko would’ve rolled his eyes and made a snarky comment, but the back of his head had already been introduced to the odd weapon, and he wasn’t eager for a reunion. 

Aside from the familiar suspects, there were two strangers (well, three if you counted the bear), both in Earth Kingdom colors. He quickly learned that the aloof man was the supposed King of the Earth Kingdom, which almost made Zuko laugh in derision like Azula would. In terms of the leader of large nations, Zuko couldn’t imagine anyone less like his father, anyone who seemed less powerful and in control than this ridiculous man and his dumb pet.

_ Really, what was it with all these people and their dumb pets? _

Even as he thought it, the odd large-eyed lemur curled up between him and his Uncle, likely drawn to their naturally higher body temperatures as the sky got colder, and the wind picked up.  _ Well, maybe this one wasn’t so bad _ . He risked petting its ears, and Sokka’s glare increased somehow.

The other flyer in Earth Kingdom regalia was a raven haired girl, small in both age and stature. He instantly observed her lack of shoes, as well as her clouded over eyes, and the way her eyes didn’t track the sound of Katara’s voice as she spoke to her. No one had said it yet, but he could tell she was blind, and he figured if she was now part of the Avatar’s little group, then she was likely a bender as well. Based on the clothes, he was gonna take a wild guess and say an earthbender.

Aside from that, he’d had very little opportunity to size her up. She hadn’t had a problem with him (likely because he never attacked their group with her in tow) joining them as they fled the capital, and had actually introduced herself. 

_ After Toph had run up and enthusiastically hugged his Uncle and called him “Uncle!”, making Zuko huff territorially, she’d turned her attention to him. _

_ “You must be angry ponytail” she smiled at him as he’d taken his spot on the saddle, as far away from the Avatar as possible.  _

_ “Uh,” he didn’t know how to answer that, “I have more hair now,” he said awkwardly, hugging his knees. Without asking, she reached up to ruffle said hair. “Hey! Cut it out!”  _

_ “Are you really one of the good guys now?” _

_ “Uhh,” Zuko glanced over at his Uncle who nodded encouragingly. “Yeah,” Zuko sighed, “I guess I am.” _

_ She seemed to be looking for something from him, and after a second, she eased as if he’d passed a test of some sort. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.  _

_ “What?” he snapped after a minute of her uncomfortable, searching silence. _

_ Instead of responding, the little brat had simply punched him in the arm and said “Welcome to the team, Sparky.” _

_ It was all Zuko could do to stop himself from jumping off the saddle into the freezing water below.  _

Now they were approaching the mouth of Chameleon Bay, and Zuko could feel the Bison losing elevation. Feeling more alert, he sat up a bit, and ended up catching Katara’s eye. She was up front near Aang, but kept looking back to check on him. It was both nice and annoying. That sort of summed up Katara in general. 

_ So annoying you almost died for her,  _ the annoying, Azula-like voice in his head piped up. 

Apparently Aang, Sokka, and Katara had silently formed some sort of plan (or maybe he’d fallen asleep for  _ just a minute _ against his uncle’s shoulder), and now Sokka addressed his confused stare. 

His voice was stern. “That’s the Water Tribe fleet. Our father is on it. And if you try anything-”

“Sokka-” Katara tried intervening.

“-Then you will become our war prisoners.” Zuko highly doubted the wooden water tribe ships were adequately equipped to hold two full grown firebenders, but he didn’t care enough to fight and just shrugged. 

“I won’t burn your little boat, don’t worry, peasant.” If Sokka could glare at him and pick a fight, Zuko could dish it back. 

“Gah! Seriously, can’t we just throw him overboard? Aang?” Aang just laughed while Katara pursed her lips. Iroh and Toph were quietly smiling. The blue sails bearing the Water Tribe insignia grew closer and closer as Appa descended toward the deck of the foremost ship.

  
_ Great _ , Zuko thought.  _ More time on a ship. _


	6. The Chief

Katara smiled as Sokka forgot all about his self-appointed guard duty of Zuko and lit up as they landed on the ship. She was happy for her brother as he delightedly ran towards their father, standing at the bow of the deck, immediately going for a bear hug, manliness be damned.

Katara was also happy, of course, but her steps were measured as she slid off Appa's neck and approached her dad. She’d been dreaming of this reunion for years, but now that it was actually happening, she felt something unfamiliar and bitter sitting on her chest. But she’d deal with that later. For now, she let herself get swept into the group hug, cradled in her dad’s other arm. 

It was all so familiar, but all so unfamiliar. They’d changed so much since they’d left the South Pole. Since their father had left. _Since he’d deserted them_ , her darker thoughts whispered. She knew deep down, he’d left to protect them from this terrible war, but in the end, the war had found them instead. 

Hakoda detached his children from his arms eventually and respectfully bowed towards King Kuei and Aang. “Your Highness, Avatar, it is an honor to meet you both.” The King bowed back mildly, and Aang gave his own nervous bob. Katara suspected he still harbored guilt for the time he tried to hide the map of their father’s location from them. The memory still sparked a tinge of anger in her gut. She loved her friend of course, but he definitely had a childish and selfish streak. 

Katara sighed softly. _Why was she feeling so mad at everyone right now?_

She looked back over Aang’s shaved head to see their other guests. Toph was lingering near Appa, likely seeking comfort now that she was on a ship, unsteady away from her element and “truly blind”. General Iroh and Zuko also hung back a bit, Iroh it seemed, out of respect for the family reunion, Zuko, with his twiddling thumbs, out of sheer awkwardness. 

Katara couldn’t believe not long ago she’d been genuinely intimidated by this twitchy teen with a signature pout and zero social skills. 

At least Momo seemed indifferent to Zuko’s stilted conversation and glares. Before jumping to Aang’s neck, he’d been dutifully curled around Zuko’s to Katara’s hidden glee. The Prince of the Fire Nation wearing a lemur scarf was not a sight she’d forget. 

Her Dad cleared his throat, looking towards the uncle and nephew. Their green robes didn’t give their nationality away, but her father was perceptive enough to sense that they were not ordinary citizens of the capital.

Iroh bowed deeply, “Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, I am truly honored to make your acquaintance,” he rose, “My name is Iroh,” he said evenly. Katara watched nervously as her Dad stiffened. They’d decided before landing to just rip the band aid off regarding their identities, but it was still nerve wracking. _What if her father didn’t trust her to vouch for them like the others had?_

“The Dragon of the West,” Hakoda stated tersely.

“In a former life, yes,” Iroh said mildly. He nudged Zuko with a sharp elbow, a pleasant smile still on his face. Zuko just grumbled, “Hello. Zuko here.”

The Chief’s eyes widened even further, “As in the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation?” Now there were hushed whispers all around the deck as the Water Tribe crew stared them down. 

“Not anymore,” Zuko looked down, and his anguish and defeat was so real, Katara wanted to go over there and hug him, but she knew her Dad would not approve. Nor would several other people on the deck. Still, she watched the way his right eyebrow scrunched up at the corners, showing he was upset. 

“And why,” The Chief slowly pivoted to face his children, “have you brought these state enemies to us, if not as prisoners?” Katara felt her annoyance flare up again, and spoke before Sokka could say something snide in response, “Because, Dad, they’re on our side.” Hakoda raised his eyebrow.

“In Ba Sing Se, Iroh helped rescue me from the palace prison, and Zuko saved my life, he..” she turned to look at him quickly, then back at her Dad, “he pushed me out of the way of a lightning bolt from his own sister.” Hakoda frowned, still looking skeptical. “They’ve changed, both of them! They just want to help us end this war, and...I trust them, so if you trust me at all, t-then, you need to take my word for it.” She finished, suddenly feeling out of breath.

This was as close to yelling at her own father as she’d come, possibly ever. It made her feel unbalanced. But she was different now. After Pakku, after Jet, after learning to heal, after surviving the scorching desert, almost dying again that night. She could never go back to being quiet or following orders without dissent. Not even if the orders came from her own father to kill or capture or forbid Zuko from staying on this ship. 

Hakoda’s mouth was a thin line, and he studied his daughter carefully. She wondered what he was seeing. Maybe parts of her mother, her Gran-Gran. Maybe the parts he didn’t, and could no longer recognize. 

“Come here, son.” He gestured towards Zuko who approached head high, royal pride still rippling beneath his uncertain exterior. Zuko bowed, “Chief Hakoda.” He studied Zuko closely. Katara saw his eyes linger on the scar. She wondered if that ever got under Zuko’s skin or if he was used to it by now. Now that she knew the truth behind the scar, Katara felt she could murder anyone who so much as looked at Zuko funny for it. 

Katara felt the irrational protective urge to pull Zuko away from her Dad. She knew her father would never raise a hand to a child or anyone who didn’t deserve it, but she was feeling oddly territorial of the boy now that they were away from those catacombs where everything had changed. 

Hakoda looked down at Zuko’s wrist where her necklace was still tied. His eyes widened slightly, and his face twisted into an emotion she couldn’t interpret, but then his features stilled again. He turned to her and nodded. “Alright. As you have vouched for their honor and their allegiance, we will welcome these men as our guests,” he turned to Zuko again, “however, if for any reason, we find reason to believe you to be a threat to our cause, we will not hesitate to eliminate that threat.”

Katara wanted to object, but Zuko nodded, looking almost amused, like he was back on familiar ground. 

Katara wondered how on earth she’d become attached to this boy who laughed in the face of death threats, but stumbled through small talk. 


	7. The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short chapter: Iroh and Zuko finally have a moment alone after the catacombs.

After Toph was introduced, and they’d discussed how to temporarily house and feed Appa, they were all led below deck. Being surrounded on all sides by the wooden hulls of the ship made Zuko naturally nervous. He didn’t think Katara’s father would take well to him if he accidentally burnt down part of the Water Tribe fleet.

Sokka and Katara had gone with Hakoda to his office, and Zuko felt a tiny bit nervous with Katara gone. Mainly because she was his chief ally here in enemy territory.  _ No, not enemy, not anymore _ , he tried to remind himself.

An unfamiliar Water Tribe warrior who introduced himself as Bato led the rest of them down the hall to a large room of swaying hammocks where the crew presumably slept. He pointed out two empty bunks, gesturing to Toph and Aang. “You can leave your things here for now.” he gestured towards the Earth King, Zuko, and Uncle. “And for the nobility,” he paused a bit, eyeing the two Fire Nation traitors warily, “more private quarters.”

Zuko didn’t like the way they were being singled out, but since his Uncle was at his side, saying enough without saying anything, he let it happen. Suspicion was still better than handcuffs. 

Kuei was let into a more private quarter, presumably for one of Hakoda’s top men like Bato. Iroh and Zuko were led to a small, walled off room that looked suspiciously like a supply closet. The old Zuko would’ve bristled at the disrespect, but after life on the road and as a refugee, he didn’t particularly care. Not like they’d be here long anyways. He knew they had only a day at the most before Azula found them again, forcing them to flee Earth Kingdom waters completely. Then, he hoped they could detach themselves from this navy completely. 

Bato shrugged indifferently, observing the space himself, “I can bring you two bedrolls.” Iroh bowed, “We appreciate your hospitality very much.” Had anyone other than Uncle said that, Zuko would have assumed they were being sarcastic, but his tone was as frustratingly genuine as ever. Bato grunted and left them.

Finally away from the hostile stares of his  _ former  _ enemies and no longer forced to keep up appearances, Zuko sat down on the floor in exhaustion. He put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. He heard Uncle take his place across from him. 

Zuko waited for some proverb about the road less traveled, or something about purity of heart, or  _ something _ , but Uncle simply sat silently humming to himself. Confused, Zuko looked up, pushing the hair from his forehead.  _ Uncle would have to trim it eventually. _

Sensing Zuko’s stare, Uncle opened his eyes from where they’d been resting. His gaze was unbearably soft as he examined his nephew. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Zuko grumbled. They hadn’t had much time to talk since he’d made his decision in the catacombs. 

His Uncle had beamed when he’d seen him run back with Katara and the Avatar to break away at his crystal prison, but besides that, they hadn’t really spoken while riding Appa, too many people around for Zuko to want to say anything sentimental or personal about his decision. At least his Uncle understood enough about him to know he needed privacy to talk.

Zuko was surprised when he suddenly felt himself suddenly being pulled into a tight hug. His shoulders tensed, but then he leaned into it, exhaustion (both emotional and physical) beating out any childish pride. 

“I am so,  _ so  _ proud of you, my nephew,” was all Iroh said. Zuko had expected something more mysterious and enigmatic, but the simple words somehow hit him harder. 

He recalled Azula’s words from before, “ _ You could’ve had everything you ever wanted, your honor, power, respect, Father’s love...Except, that last one was always a lie, now wasn’t it?” _ He thought about the way she’d hinted at Uncle’s execution if he hadn’t gotten away, and he squeezed back, feeling tears prick at his eyes for the second time in 24 hours. 

He let in a large, shuddering breath and admitted in small voice, “I  _ wanted  _ to believe Azula..I wanted to trust her  _ so badly _ ,” a single tear finally spilled over, and he thanked Agni his face was hidden in Uncle’s shoulder, “I wanted to go home, and I wanted  _ him _ ,” his voice cracked a bit, “to..to forgive me.” He couldn’t say love. He just couldn’t.

Uncle’s own voice was shaky, “I know, nephew, I know. And I am so, so sorry you had to make that choice,” somehow he squeezed Zuko even tighter, “but you made the right one, against all odds. Ozai may never understand, but I will always have faith in you. You’re  _ good _ , Zuko,” he thought about the way Katara had said the same thing, and some of the weight lifted from his chest, “and I love you.”

Zuko didn’t trust himself to say it back, so he just held on. Uncle knew. He always knew. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an alternate take on THAT scene


	8. The Necklace

Maybe an hour after Zuko and Uncle’s  _ man-to-man discussion _ , There was a knock at the door of their  closet  room. Zuko stood warily, expecting Hakoda had finally come to interrogate him or sent one of his men to drag him to the Chief’s corridors for that purpose. When he opened the door, imperious frown in place, he was met with blue eyes, but not the hostile ones he’d expected.

“Katara?” His features slackened in surprise, and he let his posture slouch back to normal, a sense of relief rushing through him. “Hi.” She smiled shyly at him, “Can I come in?” 

“Uhh-” 

Uncle jumped in, saving Zuko from the tough task of saying the word  _ yes _ , “We’d be honored to host you in our corridors, Lady Katara,” greeting her like a guest at the Jasmine Dragon, which Zuko definitely did  _ not  _ miss. 

“In fact,” the old man smiled too widely, “I will go see if someone on this ship has any tea to serve our guest.” With that, the former General had waltzed out of the room, leaving the two teenagers alone in the  supply closet room.

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck, and thought he could see Katara blushing slightly. Neither of them seemed to know how to act around the other now that they were back in “the real world.” 

“Uh-” he tried again, but Katara spoke at the same time, “Do-”, making them both chuckle nervously. Oddly, that seemed to ease the tension, and Katara took another step into the room, facing him. 

“Nice quarters,” she said, looking around the dingy room and smirking slightly.

Zuko returned it, “Yeah, we’re getting the _ royal treatment _ .”

Instead of making Katara smile, she frowned a bit at that, “I hope the crew isn’t giving you too much of a hard time.”

Zuko shrugged, “No, no, not at all really. Honestly, I’m surprised they’re taking our presence so well, all things considered..” he bit his tongue, not wanting to remind Katara of all the reasons  _ she _ should hate him as much as her people still did. 

Katara sighed, something he couldn’t place annoying her. “My father won’t leave you alone forever, he’s just distracted with planning right now. He and Sokka..”

“What-what’s happening?” Zuko wasn’t sure how much he’d be allowed to know, and he didn’t want to seem suspicious by asking too many questions. Katara shrugged now. “We know the Fire Nation fleet will catch up with us soon enough, and Sokka has a plan.”

“What kind of plan?” Zuko had to admit, his curiosity was piqued. 

“He thinks we should do a stealth mission to infiltrate a single Fire Nation ship, then use it as our disguise and cover for...for later.” Zuko could tell she was holding back a bit, but he was grateful she was willing to talk to him about their plans at all. She wasn’t reckless about it, but this did prove she actually trusted him. He felt a sudden swoop of pride at having earned that trust in Ba Sing Se. It helped mitigate the sting of losing any chance at his father’s love and respect.

“That’s..actually pretty brilliant,” he paused, “You know, I could always help them plan, I mean I know the schematics of the navy ships and all..” he explained, trying not to seem too eager, but sick of sitting here doing nothing while he waited to get the third degree. 

She studied him with her unnervingly bright eyes, “I’ll make sure they’re not too hard headed not to use your insider knowledge.” She looked around the room, shifting her weight. “I did come for another reason as well.”

“Oh?”

Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and in a deep and growly voice she muttered, “ _ Perhaps you can restore something I’ve lost _ ,” she muttered in the weird voice, glaring at him and squinting her eyes dramatically. 

At first Zuko was just confused,  _ was she mad at him now? _ But seeing his confusion, Katara pointed at her necklace, tied around his wrist. Suddenly, with a dark flush he couldn’t hide, he remembered the conversation they’d had when he’d saved her from the pirates and tried using her necklace as leverage to find the Avatar. Just the memory made him cringe, and Katara  _ giggled  _ when she saw what he assumed was his bright red face.

“Do I really sound like that?” he groaned. 

She shrugged, eyes mirthful. “You do have a certain flair for theatrics.”

“Well, I guess this,” He untied the necklace from his wrist, already missing the familiar weight of it a bit, “belongs to you.”

“Yeah,” Katara smiled, but made no move to take it from him yet. “Thanks for keeping it safe.” She looked into his eyes, and he blushed again, still not used to the intensity of her gaze. 

“I can uhh-” his hand twitched up and then back down, and he held the necklace up, nodding to her neck, “Do you- I mean-”

She put him out of his misery. “Yeah, thanks,” she turned around and lifted her plaited hair up, so he could tie the necklace around her throat. He sucked in a breath, moving slowly, somehow worried about hurting her if he moved too fast. Amazingly, his fingers didn’t stumble as he tied the ribbon into a knot at the base of her neck, the small baby hairs that didn’t fall into her braid tickling his hands as he pulled them back quickly. 

He scrambled for something else to say, but just then the door to the room flew open. Zuko turned, expecting Uncle to have come back with some tea perhaps, but instead it was the much more foreboding figure of Chief Hakoda looking stern. 

Zuko took a step back from Katara, though in the limited space, their proximity still remained fairly close. Hakoda’s eyes narrowed, and Zuko had to fight to keep his chin up. He wasn’t doing anything wrong after all.

“Dad!” Katara sounded more annoyed than flustered. Zuko didn’t know why Katara should be mad at her father, but he tensed instinctively, waiting for a sharp parental rebuke that didn’t come. Hakoda just stared at Zuko. “Follow me,” he said shortly, then turned and walked back down the hall. 

Zuko briefly glanced at Katara before following him out into the hallway. Waiting outside were two Water Tribe warriors he’d seen prowling the decks earlier. Wondering where Uncle was, Zuko followed warily, trying not to show his discomfort when the two men fell behind him, trapping him between Hakoda and themselves. 

He couldn’t help but turn to see if Katara would follow. She was there, walking behind the men, mouth set in a thin line. They finally reached the large cabin they’d passed earlier that Katara and Sokka had disappeared into. “In here,” Hakoda opened the door and waited for Zuko to enter his Captain’s quarters. 

Inside, Zuko absently compared it to the quarters on his old wani, and waited patiently for the guards to flank the doors. He didn’t turn but he heard Katara outside the doorway. “Let me in,” she demanded, but he heard the Chief quietly but sternly respond, “I need to speak to Prince Zuko alone, Katara. The less people the better. Can’t have any unnecessary distractions right now.” Zuko didn’t have to see the look on Katara’s face to know she wouldn’t be pleased. 

Ironically, it almost reminded him of his younger self, always furious at being kept out of important meetings and shut down by his elders. He felt bad for her, and he definitely wouldn't have minded some backup. 

“Please, have a seat.”

The words were cordial, but it was a clear demand.  The door closed behind him with a thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hakoda, the emotional cockblock
> 
> Also Iroh, always the Wingman


	9. The Interrogation

Zuko pulled out the wooden stool in front of a simple, wooden desk with a map of the Earth Kingdom spread out and held down with several candles. Those helped calm him and reminded him to take a deep breath. The Chief sat down on the other side, putting his elbows on the table with the map. 

Zuko noted the man’s bare arms and large muscles. His hair looked like Sokka’s with the ponytail, but was longer on the sides. He also noted the two blue beads on two strands, mimicking Katara’s signature loops. Like both his kids, Hakoda had the dark complexion of the Water Tribe that offset those piercingly blue eyes. Hakoda’s gaze on him now reminded him uncomfortably of Katara’s piercing gaze. More specifically, of the way Katara _used_ to look at him, full of caution and mistrust. 

All in all, The Water Tribe Chieftain cut a rather imposing figure, and Zuko tried not to squirm as memories of his own father assaulted him. He wanted to ask where his Uncle was, but that would seem weak of him. He straightened his back.

“So,” Hakoda broke the silence, “My daughter says you’ve changed sides.” It was clear he expected Zuko to elaborate.

Zuko grunted in what he hoped was an affirmative tone. “I tried to stop Azula from killing the Avatar,” he frowned, “and taking Ba Sing Se, but..” he trailed off.

“Princess Azula is your sister?”

“Yes.” Zuko made sure not to break eye contact. He knew Hakoda was trying to pry into his sense of loyalty. After all, _what kind of person betrays their own family?_ He thought bitterly. 

Hakoda tilted his head. “My son tells me you’ve been trying to capture the Avatar ever since he was found.”

“Since before that, actually,” said Zuko, not elaborating this time, looking down. 

“Though everyone had believed the Avatar to be dead.”

“Yes.” Zuko’s heart thumped. 

“But you didn’t?”

“I-...capturing the Avatar was my mission. I just knew I needed to complete my mission.”

“This mission was assigned to help win the war for the Fire Nation?”

Zuko looked back up, gritting his teeth. He was sick of talking about this subject. “It was _assigned_ to me by my father as part of the terms of my _banishment_.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“I see.”

“ _Do you_ ?” Zuko couldn’t help but sneer a bit. _What could this tiny rural chieftain understand about a royal exile?_

“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Hakoda paused, obviously considering him. “Why were you banished, Prince Zuko?”

“ _Former_ -Prince,” Zuko said. Hakoda just raised his eyebrow, waiting. Zuko almost wanted to laugh at the irony of Katara and now her father both trying to pry his deepest darkest confession from him in quick succession. He might as well give the most sanitized version possible. 

“I spoke out of turn in a war council meeting, so I was challenged to an honor duel. I accepted, but then...I refused to fight,” he shifted in his seat, unwilling to mention _that_ detail, “I was then banished and tasked with returning with the Avatar.”

Hakoda was silent for a moment, digesting this explanation. Zuko thought he saw those blue eyes trace the edges of his scar in consideration, but he could just be paranoid and self-conscious.

“Where is my Uncle?” Zuko interrupted, getting sick of the bouts of silence and wanting to change the subject.

“Don’t worry about him,” Hakoda waved a dismissive hand. “He was with you in your banishment, no?”

“Yes.” Zuko crossed his arms. 

“Your sister remained in the capital that whole time?”

“ _Yes_.” Zuko didn’t know or care what the man was getting at. 

“And how long has it been since _you_ were in the capital?”

Zuko hesitated, wanting to make sure he didn’t make his intel sound useless. “Three years,” he said, more subdued this time. Hakoda could do the mental math regarding how old he’d been when he was banished. 

“And your quest for the Avatar brought you to the Southern Water Tribe.” There was some coolness in Hakoda’s tone now, and Zuko was mildly taken aback by the sudden change in topic. 

“Uhh, yes,” he said, suddenly feeling a bit guilty. He didn’t want to think about how he’d driven his ship through the icy border of this man’s small village. Of _Katara’s_ village. 

“My son said you disarmed him immediately.” Zuko nodded mutely. “You manhandled my children’s grandmother?” Zuko’s throat was dry, _he didn't know them then_ , _but yes_ , he nodded. “You intimidated the women and children with a display of firebending?” Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, “I-”

“You fought the Avatar in combat, then took him prisoner?” 

“Yes, I-”

“And then you left the village?”

That brought Zuko up short, he reopened his eyes. “Well, yes..”

“You didn’t burn anything down in retribution for harboring the Avatar? You didn’t sack or plunder the village?”

“No,” Zuko was a bit confused, “I wanted to get back to the Fire Nation as quickly as possible,” he explained. “I might’ve given Sokka a few bruises, but none of your people are hurt, I swear!”

The silence was damning. Zuko’s anxiety made the candle flames flicker a bit, and Zuko prayed it didn’t remind the Chief of Zuko’s firebending and make him hate him even more. 

“...Okay.” Hakoda stood up from his seat.

On instinct, Zuko flinched back a bit, expecting some kind of hit. The man must have noticed because he leaned away from him, giving him some space, and his gaze softened a bit. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Hakoda nodded again. “Get up, we have a strategy meeting for you and my daughter to attend now.”

Zuko gaped. “Th-that’s _it_? You don’t have any more questions!?”

  
“Oh, I have _plenty_ more questions,” Hakoda said, “but I can wait to ask you those once we’re standing on a Fire Nation ship.”


	10. The Advocate

Katara had stood at the door to her Dad’s cabin trying to catch a word from the muffled voices within and glaring at the two soldiers flanking the door, until she finally couldn’t stand it. Annoyed, she spun on her heel and stalked down the corridor, searching for a familiar face.

She got to the crew’s corridors where she found Aang happily swinging on his hammock, playing a card game with a Water Tribe man, while Toph played with Momo on the floor. She scanned the room until she saw Sokka in the corner, hanging out with some of the younger Water Tribe warriors. 

With an apologetic look at them, she dragged him away by the arm. 

“Hey-hey-hey!” he complained, rubbing his bicep, “What was that for?”

“What is Dad trying to get out of Zuko?” she demanded.

“Hmmm, let me think,” Sokka rubbed his chin in an exaggerated manner, “Ooh! I know, maybe he’s trying to decide if our  _ sworn enemy  _ can be trusted!” he exclaimed sardonically. 

Katara almost stomped her foot. “I already told him he could be!”

“Well, sorry if Dad isn’t just going to take your word for it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, Katara!” Sokka crossed his arms in frustration, “All I know is that  _ you  _ hated Prince Ponytail just as much as anyone, and then suddenly you spend a few hours with the guy, and now you’re Team Zuko!” She rolled her eyes. “You still haven’t told any of us what exactly happened between you two that made Mr. Evil quit the darkside so quickly! I mean, for all I know, he  _ brainwashed  _ you.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Katara’s cheeks were now fully flushed, and she noted, with annoyance that their little spat had attracted the attention of both Toph and Aang who’d drifted over to join them. 

Aang chimed in, somewhat bravely considering her mood, “I was also kind of wondering what happened between you two..I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve always hoped Zuko could be our friend, but why are  _ you  _ so convinced?”

Katara wanted to roll her eyes at the thinly veiled jealousy. Normally, she found Aang’s obvious crush on her somewhat endearing and harmless, but right now it was rather irksome. 

“We..talked. I mean, we got to know each other better, and he told me about some..stuff,” she sighed, deflating a bit at the memory, “some really personal stuff, and I just had a gut feeling..that he’d changed..” Even Toph was silent and listening as she drifted off, not knowing quite what else to say.

“Did it ever occur to you he was lying!” Sokka cried, “That whatever sob story he fed you was just that: a story!?”

“I just  _ know _ , okay! I may not have Toph’s super senses, but I’m not an  _ idiot _ , Sokka.”

“I’m just saying, sometimes girls are more vulnerable to-”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ , I swear to Tui and Lau, I will throw you overboard if you finish that sentence!” Her finger poked his chest, and he deflated.

“Fine. But I still don’t think there’s enough proof-”

“He  _ saved  _ us! Azula could’ve hurt or even  _ killed  _ Aang, but Zuko helped run her off. And when Azula pulled one of her lightning sneak attacks, Zuko pushed me out of the way! He  _ saved my life _ , Sokka, is that enough  _ proof  _ for you!?” Katara felt herself trembling.  _ Why couldn’t they just trust her instincts for once? _

The group was silent for a few moments, until Aang chimed in again, more subdued this time, “There  _ is  _ something I never told you guys,” he rubbed his neck, “from the time you both got sick,” he nodded at her and Sokka. 

“What?” they both asked. 

“Well, when I was hunting for those frozen frogs to feed you guys,” she and Sokka shared a grimace at the memory, “I was distracted, and well- I kinda got captured by Zhao.”

“You... _ what _ !?” Katara snapped, while Sokka just threw his hands up in the air.

Aang had the decency to flush, “Yeahhh, and I kinda got locked up at the Pohuai stronghold, really intense security and all,”  _ This is why we never let him go anywhere on his own _ , “but somebody broke me out.”

“Who?” Toph piped up. She hadn’t been with them back then, but she was obviously curious now too. 

“The Blue Spirit,” Aang said mysteriously.

There was silence and then “Who?” “What?” “I’ve never-”

Aang sighed. “He’s a notorious Fire Nation vigilante of sorts, he’s got this theater mask and these double swords, and some  _ awesome  _ ninja skills, and-” he looked around, “Come on guys! You must’ve seen his Wanted posters around?”

Katara and Sokka shrugged. “I did!” Toph said.

Aang lit up, “You  _ did?- _ ” the faltered. Toph snickered. Sokka patted Aang’s arm sympathetically. 

Katara tried getting them back on track, “So, why did this  _ Blue Spirit _ break you out? Who is he or she?”

“Well, that’s kinda the whole reason I brought it up....you see, it was..Zuko.”

“ZUKO!?” Sokka screeched. Katara frowned as well, “And you didn’t think this was something we should know?”

Aang hung his head guiltily, “I didn’t think it mattered then. Zuko made it clear after he still didn’t want to be friends, and then I just didn’t want you guys to worry about me having gotten captured..”

“Well it sounds to me like Sparky is a bit of a rogue. I respect that.” Toph smirked. Katara thought of Toph’s underground fighting career as the Blind Bandit. It was true that Zuko wouldn’t be the first of their teammates with a penchant for rebellious alter egos. 

“See, Sokka, there’s even more evidence.”

“He just did that so he could capture Aang himself,” Sokka argued weakly.

Katara debated with herself. On one hand, she knew the details of how Zuko got his scar were deeply personal, and she didn’t want to betray his confidence, but she also knew that for the others to trust him, they needed to understand his earlier actions the way she’d come to. 

Her voice was soft. “Do you guys know  _ why  _ Zuko was so intent on capturing Aang?”

Aang frowned like he’d never thought it over much. But Sokka looked smug, “To help the evil Fire Nation take away humanity’s last hope for peace? To add to his little trophy shelf and impress his daddy?”

Katara internally winced at that last bit, glad Zuko was not around to hear it. 

“No,” she said softly but firmly, “it was because it was the only way to end his banishment and go home.”

The others paused to consider, “All that ‘ _ restore my honor _ ’ crap-” Sokka mentioned.

“-It was the only way he was allowed to get back to his family. His home,” she implored them to understand.

“Some  _ home  _ to go back to,” Sokka huffed.  _ He had no idea _ . 

“Maybe so,” she said, “but he just lost his only hope to help  _ us  _ back there in Ba Sing Se. The least we can do is respect that sacrifice, right?”

Sokka was frowning, but he didn’t argue.  _ My brother is stubborn, but he’s compassionate. He’ll come around _ , she thought. 

“What did he do to get banished from the Fire Nation anyways?” Sokka wondered. 

Katara sighed, temper finally dying down. “It’s not my story to tell, but maybe if you give him a chance, he’ll tell you himself one day.” Sokka nodded, finally seeming pacified, or at least willing to take a chance. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Bato stuck his head in the room, “Sokka, Katara, your Father wants you and your friends to join us in the war council meeting right away.”

Katara bit back a smile. “Finally.”


	11. The War Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a ~new POV~

Sokka felt a sense of pride rush through him when his father gestured for Sokka to join him at his right hand at the head of the war council discussion table. 

Sokka had been waiting for this moment since he was just a kid. Ever since his father had left him in the South Pole as the only warrior left to protect their village, he’d been waiting for a chance to prove himself worthy of the title, not just because there was no one else left. Literally. 

Of course, his first major trial had been a miserable failure. He still remembered the feeling of helplessness as the huge, imposing metal ship had crashed into the ice. He remembered the feeling of war paint on his skin and the scared chatter of all the little kids when the gangplank dropped and all those Fire Nation soldiers descended menacingly from the dissipating fog. 

He remembered the boy with the yellow eyes and the scar who’d instantly disarmed him and kicked him off said gangplank without blinking or breaking a sweat. How the same boy easily disarmed him again, how he’d knocked Sokka down and broken his best spear like a twig. How he summoned fire daggers. 

He remembered the humiliation of being so painfully outmatched. Of being unable to protect his people.

And now, the source of his humiliation and lingering sense of failure and inadequacy was casually standing in the corner with his Fire Nation Uncle. They were still wearing the muted greens of the Earth Kingdom, but even that made them stick out in the sea of Water Tribe blue. 

He’d given up his constant glaring routine, but he was still observing Zuko like a hawk, just waiting for him to step out of line. 

He glanced over at his sister, sitting farther down the table next to Aang and Toph, and was unhappy to see that she too was eyeing the boy, though probably for different reasons. 

He didn’t understand what Zuko could have told her to place such an unshakable faith in her, but he didn’t like it. As much as he wanted to be a good brother and respectful future chief, to trust his sister at her word, he couldn’t help but doubt her conclusion. Katara had basically raised him, and he knew his sister had a fundamentally kind spirit, but he was always worried that her bleeding heart tendencies might get her hurt one day. He couldn’t let that happen.

Though, as he watched her lean over and whisper something to Aang, he felt a stab of guilt. He’d always mocked Katara for her undying certainty that the Avatar was still alive, but here he was, sitting on a Water Tribe ship. 

Sokka was fundamentally a man of science and reason, but he’d admit he’d misjudged Katara’s unshakable faith before and dismissed it as naivete. Maybe it’s because she was a bender. Maybe it was just who she was, but she’d always had a more open mind than him. 

He was drawn from his reverie as Hakoda called the meeting to order. “Brothers. Sisters,” he looked around the room as he spoke in that booming chiefly voice of his Sokka envied so much. “While we may have lost a battle, we have not lost this war.” Everyone was silent. 

“The Fire Nation,” Sokka did notice a few nasty looks thrown towards the corner, “will catch up with us by sundown tomorrow. However, instead of fleeing or falling into despair, we will use this knowledge as an  _ opportunity _ .” His Dad turned to face him, “My son has devised a plan to infiltrate and overtake one Fire Nation ship using stealth, which we will then use as our disguise when traveling West, entering Fire Nation waters, and coordinating our final invasion strategy.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sokka saw Zuko’s shoulders stiffen, but Iroh gave nothing away in his face or body language. Sokka didn’t want them to know any of the details about the Day of Black Sun, just in case they turned double agent in the end. 

“Zuko,” his father continued, and Sokka saw Zuko’s shoulders stiffen again as all eyes turned to him, “has offered to describe to us the layout and schematics of the Fire Nation ship and its defenses, as well as the fleet’s formation so we can best choose which ship to target.” This part was news to Sokka, though the strategist in him was thrilled at the idea of so much enemy intel. 

The Chief gestured to the boy still slouched in the corner to join him at the head of the table. Sokka couldn’t help but notice that for someone who’d commanded their own Fire Nation ship and crew, Zuko seemed insanely uncomfortable in the spotlight of command. Though perhaps it was just that sea of blue Water Tribe colors and the air of distrust. 

_ Or maybe Katara’s right and the jerkbender is less of an arrogant jerkface than he used to be _ , another part of him whispered. 

Zuko stood in front of the warriors, fiddling his thumbs before pointing to the map of the Northeastern Earth Kingdom stretched out across “Uhh yeah, so this is Chameleon Bay, which you know-”  _ Damn _ , Sokka thought,  _ he really is an awkward guy isn’t he? _

Almost feeling bad for him ( _ who didn’t hate public speaking? _ ), Sokka watched Zuko pause and scan the room. He saw those yellow eyes land on his uncle, then on his own sister. Then Zuko took a deep breath and started over, standing up tall. 

“Due to the size and shape of the mouth of the Bay, the Fire Nation fleet will be forced to approach here,” he pointed elsewhere on the map, “from the West, leaving the East flank of the fleet vulnerable…..”

  
_ Huh _ , Sokka wondered at himself as Zuko trudged on,  _ I’m almost kind of proud of him _ . 


	12. The Code

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Another new POV~
> 
> Katara ain't the only one who gets some Quality Zuko Bonding Time TM

Toph was quick to volunteer for the small group that would take Appa along with the Earth King (and Bosco of course) to a rendezvous point on shore. There, Kuei said he would be alright to depart on his own, playing the part of the simple refugee, while the others would wait to fly Appa back to the stolen ship. 

Apparently, the giant flying sky bison would be a detriment to the stealth aspect of their plan. 

Toph had volunteered for this task right away, knowing that her skills (while immense) would not be very useful on a ship in the middle of the ocean. While she had been working on her metalbending, she still wasn’t comfortable enough “seeing” on the water to feel confident enough for a takeover like this. 

And while she still felt somewhat unbalanced in the air, she’d adapted to the feeling of flying on Appa, and  _ yeah, okay, maybe she had a soft spot for the hairy beast _ . 

She was joined by Uncle to her pleasure, who’d also volunteered. He’d claimed it was because he was “too old for that kind of thing”, but Toph knew he played up his helplessness like she used to. But if Iroh wanted to sit this one out, so be it. She suspected he had his reasons. 

On her other side was Sparky himself, who had decidedly  _ not  _ volunteered. In fact, he’d been furious when Hakoda assigned him this task. 

_ “But I’m the one who just told you all about the ships! And where to find extra uniforms and-” he’d sputtered uselessly. Hakoda had just shut him down, “which is why your presence is no longer necessary. We are grateful, Prince Zuko for your intel, but we will not let Fire Nation royalty near a Fire Nation ship until it has been properly secured.” _

He’d been sulking ever since. Especially after Hakoda assigned one of his younger Water Tribe warriors to join them as well. Zuko was pissed that they still had someone on guard duty for him, and Toph was pissed they assumed she’d need any help with that task. 

They sat on the large saddle, and toph felt goosebumps prickle her arms as the sun set, and the wind chill picked up. Experimentally, she shifted closer to Zuko, adn was pleased that her hypothesis was correct.

“Ooh, you’re warm!” she said.

“Firebender,” he muttered grumpily, but made no move to pull away from her, letting her burrow into his side a bit. Not one to be left out, Momo also crawled into his lap. 

“Shut up,” she heard Zuko grumble halfheartedly, and she assumed that his uncle must have smiled at him or something. 

She’d never told anyone, especially not her parents who didn’t need  _ more  _ reason to infantilize her, but sometimes she really needed touch to ground her. Of course, her friends all knew about her need to be in contact with the earth to feel its vibrations and sense her surroundings, but when that was not possible, or when she was just especially tired of constantly trying to read her surroundings, body contact was ideal. 

And it didn’t hurt that Zuko was just a human heat pack in general.

“Don’t worry, Sparky, I won’t tell the others. It can be our little secret, as long as I get to call dibs.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, but she could hear a little smile in his voice. 

The Earth King who’d begged for the chance to steer Appa called back to them, “That’s the spot!” And they began to descend. Toph immediately felt cold disengaging from her new favorite person’s side, but then sighed in relief when her feet touched soft dirt and the world felt  _ real  _ again. 

Now she could sense how perfect the spot they’d chosen beforehand was. It was close enough to the bank of the water to see (or hear, in her case) the stolen ship chugging along, waiting to call out the special signal, but still had enough rock cover to protect them from any unfriendly ships or eyes.

After the Earth King rode away on his bear (what a world to live in), and they made sure he’d departed safely, the remaining folks spread out inside their little rock den. Toph leaned up against Appa’s legs who acted like a pillow, while her feet could still touch the ground and absently picked at her toes. The Water Tribe warrior sat on a rock a few meters away and began sharpening his spear in what she supposed might be a threat to Zuko and Uncle, though she doubted either noticed.

She could sense Iroh sitting in a meditative pose near the water, while Zuko was too busy being grumpy to pay attention. The great thing about Zuko’s grumpiness was that she didn’t need to see his expression or even hear him to tell, she could just sense it coming off of him in waves. 

It was sort of refreshing to meet someone who didn’t say a lot, but was still expressive enough for her to study. He was a fun challenge. 

She hadn’t been in the group when Zuko had been enemy no. 1, but she’d heard a few stories. Hell, she’d heard hints of gossip among the Earth Kingdom noble families about “the banished Fire Nation prince.” She’d never cared enough to try and piece together the full story, but now she wished she had. She was curious, but she didn’t want to hear it through Katara or someone else anymore. One day, she’d get her answers. 

In the meantime, she settled for throwing a stick at him every now and then. You know, to show that they were friends. 

A good amount of time passed, and Toph was beginning to feel restless. She could tell the others were as well. Especially Zuko, who was tapping incessantly at the ground. She stopped to listen to the reverberations of his taps, and realized there was a consistent pattern to them. He kept tapping out the same pattern over and over again.

“What is that? A song?” she asked. 

She felt his surprise. The taps stopped. “What are you talking about?”

“That rhythm, the one you were tapping out?”

“You could hear that?” he asked skeptically.

She just shrugged. “More like I felt it, but still.”

He paused before answering, “It’s uh… it’s a type of code. There are uh two different kinds of signals, one’s short, one’s long,” he demonstrated, “and each character has a sequence to represent it.”

“Where’d you learn it?”

“Well, it’s taught to most kids in Fire Nation schools for future military usage,” he explained sheepishly, “but, uh, that was something my mom used to tap out, you know, on my arm or wherever..”

He got quiet. “And my cousin Lu Ten sometimes used it too.” For the first time since their arrival, she sensed Iroh jerk from his deep meditation, but quickly still again, heart rate returning to normal.  _ Huh _ .

“So what did it mean? What were you tapping out?” She tried to change the subject. 

“Uhh-”  _ this seemed to be his catchphrase _ , “Well, it means ‘I love you’” he said, sounding sheepish, but also unbearably sentimental. 

“Is your mom?...”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Are  _ your  _ parents?...”

“They’re alive, but they’re not...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Part of her wanted to laugh at the stilted conversation. The other part of her wanted to cry because she couldn’t imagine her parents ever doing something like that with her. Their love was always distant, their affection always formal. Part of her hated them, but she also missed them terribly. She pulled her knees to her chest and sighed. 

“I could teach you, you know? How to do the code? I mean, you’d probably be really good at it if you could recognize that pattern so quickly.”

“Yeah?” She smiled at his offer.

“Yeah.” She thought he was probably smiling back at her. 

Just then, she heard the far off hiss of steam and the breaking off water over the hull of a ship. Two short whistle sounds pierced the air. That was their signal. They’d done it. They’d captured the ship. 

Zuko came over and offered her a hand. She didn’t need to take it of course, but she did anyway.

That didn’t mean she didn’t also punch his shoulder for good measure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so obviously this is just Morse code, but in-universe, it doesn't have that name I suppose.


	13. The Enemy Colors

Katara felt a rush of excitement as they let out the signal and neared the rendezvous point. They’d infiltrated and captured the ship undetected, throwing the Fire Nation crew overboard. Katara had a feeling her father was simply appeasing Aang’s loathing of bloodshed. No one ever had the heart to remind him that plenty of the soldiers they sent overboard never made it shore, especially not in their heavy armor. 

She’d never told him about the many times she’d had to buoy up a drowning enemy soldier. Or worse, the times when she’d quickly pulled a lost cause under the waves to put them out of their misery. Aang just didn’t understand. He was still just a kid with a black and white view of the world. 

Sometimes it scared her, how much Aang put her on a pedestal. She feared the day he realized that deep down, she was just as angry and bloodthirsty and vengeful as any Fire Nation soldier. That she wasn’t perfect, no matter how much she preached about morality and doing the right thing. He’d never know how much of that was her trying to convince herself that she was on the right path. 

Maybe that’s why she felt herself drawn to Zuko now. It was freeing to be around someone who wasn’t a moral absolutist. Who was also older and had made mistakes. It made her feel less disgusting for having those darker urges, which in turn, made it easier to let them go somehow. 

She put those brooding thoughts aside- _Damnit, he’s rubbing off on me already-_ and looked towards the bank, where she could see Appa gliding towards them. A final scan of the horizon showed the coast was still clear, and she let out a relieved sigh. 

“Katara!” she turned to see Sokka walking towards her in-

“Ew.” He was wearing a Fire Nation soldiers’ uniform. 

“Gee, thanks sis.”

She laughed, leftover adrenaline leaving her somewhat giddy. “You know what I mean. I’ve just never seen you in red, it’s jarring.”

“Well, you’re next,” he threw his thumb over his shoulder, “extra uniforms and armor are back there, I can take you when you’re ready. We won’t officially be in Fire Nation waters for at least a day or two, but it’s good to be prepared.” Katara rolled her eyes fondly at Sokka’s obsession with _preparedness_ and _plans_. 

“Of course. I just wanted to make sure they got in safely,” she gestured at the flying figure approaching them, “Appa, Toph, Nanouk..”

“Zuko,” Sokka finished, though his scowl was gone. He just looked faintly amused. The success of their takeover had put him in better spirits. 

She shrugged in a noncommittal way, looking back up as Appa descended towards the deck. Even on the huge ship, he took up a lot of space, “Are you sure your plan to hide him will work?” she worried. It was Sokka’s turn to shrug, “We’ll make sure it does.” 

Together, they approached, helping the others dismount. Katara felt so relieved that everything had gone to plan, she wrapped Toph in a quick hug. The younger girl only squirmed a little. “What was that for, Sugar Queen?” 

“I don’t know,” Katara admitted. She just felt lighter than she had in awhile. She still had some festering resentments against her father to deal with, but in that moment they seemed very far away and inconsequential. 

Zuko slid down next to her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

She suddenly realized he was still wearing the sleeveless under-tunic he’d worn to fight back in Ba Sing Se, and it was rather cold out. Her inner mom-voice scolded everyone for not giving him some kind of layer to wear sooner. It was a cool night! He hadn’t complained though, so maybe it was a firebender thing. She was tempted to touch him to see how hot he was but refrained. 

“You’re just in time for the fashion show, Sokka was about to take me to the closet.”

Toph seemed just as unenthused as Zuko, but they both trudged behind her as Sokka led them inside the ship. She was sure Zuko knew the layout better than Sokka, but he dutifully followed her brother’s lead. Sokka opened a metal door ( _so much gross metal everywhere_ ), and a sea of red garments greeted them. 

Katara immediately began helping Toph look (or in her case, feel) for a size-appropriate garment. It was hard considering all the clothes were made for soldiers, especially adult male soldiers. Katara sighed, pulling out a medium sized red cape with a Fire Nation medallion clasp.

She thrust it at the girl. “I suppose this’ll have to do. As long as you cover up the green from a distance, it’ll be fine.” 

Zuko quickly and easily pulled several pieces out, then turned unsure in the hallway. “Where-?”

Sokka, sounding less hostile than before to Katara’s satisfaction, offered to lead him to the side of the ship with the mens’ quarters. They’d chosen to dedicate half of the ship to the men, half to the women. Katara thought it was a pretty dumb and arbitrary designation considering she and Toph were the only women currently on board (and just unnecessary in general), but she wasn’t going to complain about finally having her own room and space again after so long camping and sleeping in a group. 

She wondered what it said about Fire Nation culture, that even on a ship, the crew all slept separately, tucked away in isolation in little metal jail cells. It was nothing like the communal living and doubled up hammocks of a Water Tribe ship. This ship was so much more austere. 

_How long had Zuko lived on a ship like this? No wonder he’d been so cranky all the time._ She’d have to ask him about it sometime. 

She finally found a smaller soldier’s uniform that wouldn’t be too tall for her, and dragged Toph with her back to their shared room. She began to undress down to her wrappings, “Turn around,” she told Toph.

“Really?” Toph asked, incredulously.

“Oh..yeah. Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling on the loose black pants and tucking the puffy black blouse into them, tying the belt. Finally, she laced up the black leather boots and pulled on the red belted tunic over top. It was so much more unnecessarily complicated than Water Tribe clothing, and she wasn’t even wearing the full chest plate and shoulder armor for now. She hoped once it got hotter out, they could find some less suffocating Fire Nation clothes to wear.

She found a small mirror next to a simple wash basin, and examined herself. It was jarring to see herself in these colors. It’s not just that they weren’t the white and light blue and purples she was used to it, it’s just how opposite they were. Hard dark lines, as opposed to the soft light furs and loose fabric she was used to. 

Her normal hairstyle just didn’t look right with this. She slowly unplaited her hair, letting it down. Her necklace also stuck out like a sore thumb, but she couldn’t bear to take it off for now. 

She pulled her two blue Water Tribe beads from what Sokka named her “hair loopies”, unsure of what to do next. She settled for pulling the top part of her hair into a bun on top of her head, tying it off with a red ribbon she’d found, and letting the rest stay down. She decided to take two strands of her loose hair and fix her beads there, sort of like her father. 

Now that she thought about, this made her look a lot like her dad. She sighed. _They really needed to have a conversation at some point._

She turned to see if the other girl was done changing as well. “How do I look?” Toph asked.

“Do you actually care?” 

“Nope, not at all,” Toph gave a toothy grin and made her way to the door.

“Now let’s go fond out what they eat in the Fire Nation, I’m starving.”


	14. The Mirror

Zuko followed Sokka to a very (depressingly) familiar looking room on the right side of the ship.“You and your Uncle can stay here,” the other boy offered.

“Thanks,” Zuko responded. He meant it. It really beat the closet Bato had given them before. He turned, and Sokka seemed to be loitering in the doorway like he wanted to say something. Zuko waited. 

“Listen, man, I’m sorry about being so hard on you before, back when we left the city..”

Zuko rubbed his neck, “It’s okay. I get it..I wouldn’t really trust me either,” he admitted.  _ Hell, I still barely trust myself _ , he thought. 

“I mean..you did save Katara’s life and probably Aang’s too, so uh..thank you for that. Not to mention the intel you gave was really helpful for taking down the ship so..” he shuffled his feet.

Zuko’s face was probably beet red, and Sokka was also flushing awkwardly. At least they were both equally uncomfortable and unsure in this newfound truce they seemed to have reached. 

“Uhh, no problem,” Zuko responded, then immediately hated himself for saying.  _ When had he become such a bumbling, blushing mess around these Water Tribe siblings? _

“ANYway,” Sokka said, “I’ll leave you to change, and then you should uh meet us in the mess hall for dinner, we’re gonna raid the kitchens..I assume you can find your own way there?”

Zuko nodded and mumbled a quick “sounds good” at Sokka’s casual invitation that somehow felt more than casual. It felt like a peace offering. 

Once the other boy was gone, his footsteps faded down the hall, Zuko let out a breath. He glanced at the mirror on the wall, then quickly glanced away. He turned to the pile of clothes he’d gathered and started putting them on. At least they were less grimy than the Earth Kingdom robes he’d been wearing for several days now. 

It’d been so long since he’d worn a uniform like this on a ship like this, but also no time at all. Everything looked the same, but everything was different. He couldn’t begin to fully untangle the mess of emotions he felt, surrounded by the Fire Nation flags and propaganda in the armor he’d worn everyday for three years, always ready and itching for a fight. 

It felt right, he was Fire Nation. It was in his blood.

It felt wrong. He was now a traitor to his country. 

He looked back up at the mirror. At his divided face. At least his hair was long now. And maybe he’d grown a bit taller. He tried to cling to that. 

_ I’m different. I’m different. I’m different. _

Just then, there was a soft tap at the door. Iroh stepped in. “Hello, Prince Zuko.”

Zuko turned his head and softly rebuked him, “It’s not Prince anymore, Uncle. We’re officially traitors now. You know that,” he finished sadly, but Iroh just hummed. “Nephew, it may not feel like it now, but you will  _ always  _ be a Prince.”

Zuko turned around fully. “Do you really believe that?”

Uncle nodded, “Often one finds one’s destiny just where one hides to avoid it.”

Zuko couldn’t stop his eye roll, even as his lip twitched up fondly.

“I am sorry, though,” he said more quietly. “About the Jasmine Dragon, I mean..” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “I’m sorry I keep dragging you all around, I know how important the shop was to you-”

Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off. “ _ You _ are important to me, nephew. There is tea everywhere. Not always  _ good  _ tea,” he grimaced, “but nonetheless, wherever you are, so long as you need me, I will be more than happy to be there.”

Zuko let out a genuine, if timid, small smile. “ Would you like to join me for dinner, Uncle?” he asked courteously.

Iroh smiled and took his arm as they walked down to a familiar mess hall.

  
Things  _ had  _ changed. And they were better. 


	15. The Meal

Katara and Toph wandered down to the mess hall. It was austere like the rest of the ship, but after so long of eating plain race made on an open flame in the middle of the woods, Katara felt pretty excited about eating from an actual kitchen with actual utensils with actual tables to eat on. 

At first she was taken aback, walking into the room filled to the brim with what looked like Fire Nation soldiers. Even after recognizing a familiar and friendly face, there was still a sense of foreboding. Like her body couldn’t help but want to go into fight or flight mode at seeing all those uniforms. 

She saw Sokka and Aang sitting at a table with Hakoda and Bato, so she headed over there, Toph following behind. As they sat down, she looked around. At another table, she saw General Iroh walking around and serving hot tea to the Water Tribe men.  _ Well that’s one way to win them over _ , she thought in amusement. She remembered how she’d assumed Iroh and Zuko’s tea shop jobs had just been a ruse, and now she felt a bit bad about it. 

_ Oh well. Bygones.  _

Speaking of, she suddenly wondered-

“Where’s Sparky?” Toph voiced her question for her.

“In the kitchen,” Aang let out a small chuckle and Sokka smirked like it was some kind of joke. 

“You forced him to cook for everybody?” Katara frowned.

“ _ Forced _ ? Who do you take me for?” Sokka swept his arms dramatically, “No, no. Our sweet little Prince found some of the guys rooting around and trying to figure out the different Fire Nation ingredients and whatnot, and then immediately had a conniption!”

“He demanded they stop butchering perfectly good food,” Aang added. 

“He’s back there now, ‘fixing’ everything,” Sokka chuckled, “Thankfully, none of the guys had any problem with being cooked for.”

Even her Dad seemed amused and in good humor. “I feel safer with Bato out of the kitchen,” he ribbed his old friend. Bato gave a tight smile in return, “As long as he doesn’t poison it.” That lowered the mood a bit. Katara was thankful that Sokka didn’t jump in to say anything, just kept silent, changing the topic. 

Katara was distracted by the wafting scent of something unfamiliar, something spicy, tangy, maybe even citrusy coming from the open window of the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of the back of Zuko’s head as he leaned over something she couldn’t see.

Their journey hadn’t been much of a food tour so far, but Katara had really enjoyed the rare occasions where they got to stop and enjoy the local cuisine. There were so many foods and spices she’d never have dreamed of if she hadn’t left the North Pole. There was still so much she wanted to see, to try. Part of her was actually pretty excited to try some Fire Nation cuisine, though she might not admit that to the rest of the Tribesmen. 

She found herself pulled back into the lull of conversation, as Bato and Hakoda rehashed old memories, and the kids all laughed at their childish antics from when they were kids themselves. 

Eventually, the chatter of the room died down as Zuko stepped out of the kitchen. 

Katara hadn’t seen him yet since he changed back into Fire Nation regalia. She’d seen him in similar outfits ever since she’d first laid eyes on him, so she was surprised when she unconsciously sucked in a breath at the sight. He looked...well he looked rather handsome. She supposed he’d always looked handsome in his uniform, but she’d been distracted by his awful haircut or, you know, the fact he was attacking them. The red suited him, as did the sense of officiality. 

To make it worse (or better), his hair was sticking up a bit in places where the sweat of leaning over a cooking fire and possibly some anxious hair mussing had made it an awful mess. Below that he wore that open, wide-eyed look, his fingers doing that awkward twiddling gesture of his. “Uhh, the food’s ready,” he nodded towards the kitchen unnecessarily. 

Katara found it...endearing. 

All the hungry men clambered up and made their way over to be served. Sokka (unsurprisingly) was one of the first in line, and he clapped Zuko on the back, “So, buddy, what’d you make for us today?” 

Zuko spoke as he ladled out rice, then poured a thick, bright orange sauce on top, “This is Fire curry,” he looked up, glancing around, “It’s vegetarian for Aang,” he filled a side dish with some kind of green item, “These are ocean kumquats, uh ships have a lot of them because...ocean,” Sokka nodded like this was very wise, probably trying not to laugh, “But, more importantly, I chose them because they taste sort of similar to stewed sea prunes, which Uncle said were a Water Tribe delicacy,” Sokka seemed surprised, “an uh, lastly these are flaming fire flakes, they were my favorite growing up! I’m surprised these soldiers got them this far out into the Earth Kingdom,” he gushed. Then, looking up and realizing how many Water Tribesmen were watching him, he blushed, seemingly embarrassed by his sharing, so Katara made her way over as well. 

“If it tastes half as good as it smells, this will be fantastic, Zuko. Thank you so much.” She smiled. He smiled back. She hoped he knew she was speaking for all of them. Unfortunately, she didn’t think the hungry, wary warriors would be polite enough to thank him. It would take more than one good home cooked meal to overcome years of bitter hatred and resentment.

But it was a start. 

She got in line and waited, finally filling her plate after her stomach growled, not a minute too soon. She took her seat again, but kept eying Zuko who continued to ladle out the food to all the warriors. He must’ve known they could’ve served themselves, but he seemed determined to be beyond reproach. 

As she watched him and mused, she absently took a bite of one of the fire flakes, and was suddenly very hot for a different reason. “Ahh!” she cried, scraping at her tongue. “Someone hand me some water!” She was tempted to use her bending water, but that was a last resort. 

Sure, she’d had food with  _ spices  _ before, but never something so obviously  _ spicy _ , so hot. It seemed the Fire Nation was very literal. 

A few of her fellow tribesmen seemed to have her same “Give me water, now!” reaction, while lots nodded in appreciation. Surely some of them had visited more ports than her and expanded their palettes. Her own Dad nodded in appreciation. “Mmm, I haven’t had food like this on a ship since...well, probably not ever,” he shrugged. Bato just picked around the curry and settled on the more familiar kumquats. 

Aang was beaming, “My old friend Kuzon, he used to love fire flakes too! They always served them at Fire Nation festivals and parties!”

Sokka nibbled at the edges of his, saying nothing. Katara suspected they were too hot for him, but he didn’t want to seem “unmanly” and admit it. She’d enjoy watching his face get progressively redder and redder as his pride forced him to keep eating. 

Finally, it seemed everyone had been served, except Zuko and his uncle. As she watched, they both filled some plates with what was left (not all that much in the end) and headed towards an empty table in the corner. Deciding this was untenable, Katara jumped up to intercept them.

“Hey!” she called, “Over here,” as she said this, she pulled up two stools and slid over to make room. It earned her a large grin from Iroh and an attempted smile from Zuko. They sort of felt like equivalent reactions. 

Katara was proud of her friends as they quickly absorbed the pair into the space and into the conversation, Aang talking to Iroh about all the different festivals he and Kuzon used to attend.

Toph challenged Zuko to a competition to see who could catch the most fire flakes in their mouth. (It was Toph of course). “The problem is that you’re trying to watch the flake instead of trusting the path of your toss.”

The elder Water Tribesmen, however, were a bit more reserved, but continued to talk amongst themselves, and aside from a glance or two, did not have any objection to the Fire Nation defectors’ presence. 

Eventually, Zuko turned to her and said quietly, “Your hair looks nice down like that.” Unfortunately Sokka caught this and loudly whined, “ _ My _ hair looks nice today too, Zuko! Why don’t you ever compliment  _ me _ ?” They all chuckled quietly, though Aang looked a bit dejected as he took another bite of his curry. 

When most everyone was finished, Katara volunteered to help collect the dishes and start cleaning them. She needed an excuse to get out of the crowded space and back into the kitchen near some water and a cracked porthole. 

She was feeling a bit overheated. For many different reasons. 


	16. The Compliment

Sokka had to admit that Zuko was growing on him more and more. He guessed a week of proximity would do that. His own roommates, however, were not.

The Water Tribe warriors had dispersed throughout the ships’ sleeping quarters, bunking up with about two or three people to every little room. Sokka was stuck with some of the younger tribesmen, Nanouk and Kallik, who were just a few years older than himself and both of whom snored loudly. 

Because of the noise, there were several nights where he’d snuck out of the room, too anxious to sleep anyways. Most of his days were spent tagging after his father and Bato, working on the Day of Black Sun invasion plan. Just thinking about it filled him with an odd mix of dread, nerves, but also excitement. 

If it worked, he’d be a war hero. If it failed, well...

That’s why he couldn’t sleep that night. 

He crept along the dark, metal corridor, headed towards the deck of the ship. The moon was out, so Sokka crept up slowly, making sure Katara and Aang weren’t already up there having one of their nighttime water bending practices. 

Assured his sister wasn’t there, he crawled out onto the deck, feeling instantly relieved by the night air. After growing up in an igloo, then camping outdoors for the past year, he wasn’t used to the muggy heat and enclosed space of a ship like this. It made him claustrophobic. 

He walked towards the railing, so he could look at the waves far below the ship. He may not be a prodigal bender like his sister, but he was still a Water Tribe warrior. He was raised on and by the water, and bender or not, he still drew strength from it. 

A soft thud drew him from his reverie. It was so quiet, he might not have caught it if his bout of insomnia didn’t make him hyper-vigilant and jumpy. He turned quickly to see the hint of a shadow on the opposite side of the deck. It was largely shrouded in shadow, but he caught a faint movement. 

“Hello?” he called out, hand reaching towards the boomerang on his belt. 

There was silence, and then...

Zuko slowly emerged from the darkness. Sokka, taking his hand off the weapon, wanted to roll his eyes. _Why was everything Zuko did always so dramatic?_

“What are you doing up here?”

“Uhh,” Zuko reluctantly pulled his hands from behind his back, revealing two long, curved swords. Sokka was reluctantly impressed.

“Practicing,” the older boy shrugged. 

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“So..where’d you get those?”

“Old friend.” Zuko did not elaborate. 

Sokka took in his outfit, the black garments worn under the Fire Nation naval uniform. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “Is that your ninja get-up?”

“My...what?” Zuko shook his head like he’d misheard.

“Uhhh, well, Aang sort of told him about the time you broke him out of Pohuai Stronghold-” Zuko frowned, “Not that he just goes around telling people that! In fact, he kept it from us _forever_ , until Katara and I got into this argument, but that’s not really important..”

Zuko didn’t comment on Sokka’s rambling. “Yes. These are my double Dao swords I use whenever I’m not firebending.”

Sokka nodded, considering. “Why?”

Zuko cocked his head. “What I mean is- Most benders I’ve met stick to their elements, and don’t really bother with _non-bender_ weapons,” he couldn’t keep a bit of bitterness out of his voice. His status as the only non-bender did get to him sometimes, even if he knew he was valuable as the plan-guy at the end of the day.

Zuko nodded. “That’s true. I used to train in secret at night because of that, I..” he trailed off looking at the moon that was still bright above them, “well, my sister, Azula and my father, they see it as an admission of my weakness.” He smiled humorlessly. 

“Weakness?” 

“Yes. To them, it proved that I….I'm not a good firebender,” he looked down, “otherwise I wouldn’t need to rely on common weapons, unbecoming of Sozin’s line.”

Sokka just stared at Zuko, waiting to see if he was joking at all. “Are you kidding?”

Zuko looked up, surprised, “No, they definitely look down on-”

“Not that, I mean, they don’t think you’re a good firebender?”

Zuko scowled, and Sokka realized that he’d taken the wrong turn.

“Yes, thanks for reiterating that sore point.” He made a move to walk away, but Sokka stopped him with a hand to the chest. “Wait!”

Zuko did. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to rub salt in the wound or anything…” Zuko waited, “So, uh...do _you_ think you’re a good firebender?”

Zuko just squinted his eyes (or, well, just the one unscarred eye, really), like he didn’t know what Sokka was getting at. “No,” he finally answered in a petulant tone. 

“What! Dude, are you crazy!?” Sokka laughed, making Zuko scowl again, “How many times have you gone toe to toe with Aang, and he’s the Avatar! You’re scary good, emphasis on scary, I’m glad you’re on our side now!”

Sokka trailed off, realizing Zuko still looked upset. 

“I don’t need you to mock me, Water Tribe-”

“I’m not _mocking_ you!” Zuko just shrugged, and now Sokka was a bit annoyed too. 

“ _Sure_ .” Zuko sheathed his swords, _dramatically of course_. 

“Can’t you just take a compliment!?” Sokka yelled.

“No!” Zuko yelled back and began stomping away.

Sokka ran after him, blocking his way back below the deck. “Hey, woah, slow down there, big guy.” Zuko huffed, but didn’t push Sokka aside. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you by saying you _weren’t_ a terrible firebender,” Sokka said in what he knew was a very patronizing tone. The pout on Zuko’s face was almost..cute. Sokka pushed that thought aside. He took a deep breath.

“Will you teach me?”

Zuko just looked lost again, but less annoyed. “What?”

“How to fight..with swords I mean.” Sokka was swallowing a lot of his pride to ask this, but based on Zuko’s dramatic display of self-deprecation, Sokka didn’t think he’d be the kind of person to mock Sokka for asking. At least he hoped not as he held his breath. 

Zuko just stared at him appraisingly with gold eyes that took on a slightly different hue under the moonlight. He narrowed them.

“East side of the deck. Sunrise. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

Zuko jostled Sokka’s shoulder as he shoved past him, but Sokka just smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i definitely ship Zukka on the side as well, i am true multi-shipper TRAsh


	17. The Training

Sokka pulled himself off his bedroll, already feeling hungry, dizzy, and headachey. He was decidedly _not_ a morning person, but he didn’t want to piss Zuko off too much by being late on his first day of sword fighting training. He was both nervous and excited. 

He tied his wolf tail back and then quietly tiptoed out of the room (Not that Nanouk or Kallik could hear over the sounds of _all that snoring_ ).

_I bet Zuko doesn’t snore. Just on principle or something_. He snorted at the thought as he entered the deck. The first rays of the sun were just visible on the horizon, and Sokka followed to the East side of the deck. _Is this a rise with the sun kind of thing?_ He wondered. 

There he saw both Zuko and his Uncle sitting side by side, cross legged. It seemed like they were meditating. Sokka stood there awkwardly. He didn’t know the protocol for interrupting your grumpy new-mentor and his old-mentor from their meditation. 

Zuko kept his eyes closed. “Sit,” he said. So Sokka sat, mimicking the two Fire Nation men’s positions. He’d seen Aang meditate enough times to have a rough idea of it. 

A minute passed. Sokka kept looking over at Zuko. He was on Zuko’s left, giving him a close up view of his scar. He prickled with curiosity and the unasked question. At that moment, Zuko opened his eyes, and turned to face him, where they were now almost nose and nose.

Zuko looked unimpressed.

“You’re not very good at this, you know.”

Sokka scoffed, “So? I want to swordfight, not _think_ my opponent to death.”

“Meditation isn’t about _thinking_.”

“Huh?”

“It’s about letting _go_ of your thoughts, so you can center yourself and focus on your breathing. The breath is the core of firebending.”

“I’m not a firebender!”

Zuko remained cross legged, but he looked far less serene than he had a minute ago, “ _Yes_ ,” he gritted out, “but it’s also an important foundation for _any_ kind of fighting, bending or not!”

Sokka blushed. Zuko sighed, “Look, just..close your eyes, focus on your breath, and try to be silent and still,” Zuko glanced at Sokka’s bouncing knee, “for once.”

Sokka scowled but did as instructed. Almost immediately, he was bored again, so he opened his eyes to watch the sunrise. He might not be a morning person, but he could recognize how beautiful it was. 

“Do you always get up this early?” he chirped, interrupting the brief silence.

Zuko groaned while his Uncle chuckled. 

“Yes. Sun. Firebender.” Zuko said tersely, as if that was a proper explanation. But Sokka didn’t care all that much about this firebender nonsense, he was ready to play with a sword. He said as much. 

Zuko, now having completely given up his meditation attempt, turned to his Uncle. “Was _I_ this bad too?”

Iroh chuckled once more. “Patience is a flower that grows not in every one’s garden.”

Sokka vaguely felt like he and Iroh were now ganging up on Zuko.

Iroh also seemed to sense Zuko was getting flustered, and he stood up creakily. “If you need me, nephew, I will be downstairs, trying to tempt one of our lovely hosts into a game of Pai Sho.”

Zuko nodded. 

“So…” Sokka hedged, “Sword Fighting time?”

Zuko turned. “Look. If you want me to teach you, you have to let me do it _my_ way. I studied under the greatest swordmaster in Fire Nation history, and some of his training techniques were unorthodox, but they made me stronger.”

“What master?”

“Piandao.”

“Never heard of him,” Sokka shrugged.

“Of course you haven’t, I _just_ said he was Fire Nation,” Zuko rolled his eyes. 

“How’d you meet him if your father didn’t support your sword fighting practice?”

Zuko sighed, “Uncle found out I’d been trying to train myself, and he offered to get me in touch with Piandao, who’s an old friend of his from their army days I guess. Uncle helped me keep the training under wraps, but..”

“But?”

Zuko sighed again. _He does that a lot._ “ _But_ my father eventually found out, because _of course he did_ ,” Sokka noted the hint of venom, “and he...well, let’s just say no Fire Nation swordmaster would take me on after that.” He frowned. Sokka felt there was more to the story, but he didn't want to dig up any painful memories for his friend.

_Friend, huh? When had that happened?_

Changing gears, Sokka piped up, “So, about these unorthodox techniques…”

Zuko flashed a small, but genuine smile. It caught Sokka off guard. It was slightly alarming to see the playful glint in those gold eyes. 

Zuko walked over to a box of supplies a few feet away. “Found these in the scribe’s office.” He handed Sokka a piece of parchment, a brush, and a full inkwell. “Now, draw.” 

Sokka gaped, “Draw?”

Zuko nodded, smirk in place, “Piandao says that a sword is an extension of imagination and creativity, so…..get to drawing.”

Sure he was being pranked, Sokka shoved the supplies back at Zuko, who simply pushed them back again. 

“What, pray tell, do you even want me to draw?”

“Draw what you see,” Zuko counseled, “to help hone your skills of observation.”

“But all I see is the rail of this ship! And some water and clouds!” Sokka stuttered, “A-and your stupid face!”

“Alright,” said Zuko calmly, “then draw the rails, and the sky, and the clouds, and my stupid face.”

Sokka nearly growled as Zuko closed his eyes and folded himself back into a meditative position.

“I look forward to having a new royal portrait to hang on my wall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this house, we wholeheartedly appreciate & respect Piandao's interdisciplinary teaching approach


	18. The Exes

“It looks-” Katara paused, turning the parchment upside down, then rightside up again, “-umm.” She couldn’t think of a proper response, so she just stopped talking, passing the drawing to Toph.

“Looks great to me!” Toph exclaimed happily. 

Katara walked back over to Zuko, hearing Sokka’s indignant “ _Hey_!” echoing behind her. 

She sat down across from him on the deck of the ship. It was a nice day out, and she appreciated the way the full sun shone on her face, while the breeze off the water kept her cool and gently blew the strands of hair around her face in a relaxing way. 

“So,” she smirked, “You're Sokka’s new swordmaster?”

“Seems that way.”

“I’ve never actually seen you fight with swords,” she mentioned shyly, not wanting to mention how curious she’d been ever since she'd heard about his Blue Spirit alter ego. 

He smiled, “Well, maybe if you're lucky, Sokka will let you watch us spar.”

“And when do you think that’ll happen?”

Zuko looked behind her towards Sokka, who was now angrily scrubbing out a spot of ink to no success. “Eh, I’ll mess with him for another day or two before I let him hold one of my swords.”

Katara chuckled. “So you are? Just messing with him, I mean?”

“No, not entirely,” he pushed the fringe of his hair from his face, and she watched the way it fell right back to the top of his eyebrow. “Master Piandao really did put me through all kinds of different and weird training exercises...”

He looked like he was thinking about something, and she was content to wait out his thoughts.

“Although,” he finally continued, squinting up at the sun, “I think part of him was always just trying to get me to..you know, _relax_ a bit….to actually have fun with training.”

“You didn’t enjoy your formal training?” Katara, who’d had to fight tooth and nail just for the _right_ to train with a master couldn’t fathom not loving every second of it. 

But he shook his head, “Up until that point, I’d only ever been taught firebending by all the best the capital had to offer...but it just never _clicked_ for me under them. Azula was always a natural, the prodigy, and I was always left in the dust, just trying to keep up with her even though it was impossible.”

She nodded as he went on, “So I just began to associate training with...stress and failing and...never being good enough. At least until Uncle took over my training for good, but that was after Piandao helped me learn to use my swords.”

Katara was a bit surprised by this admission. “So do you...prefer swords to firebending?” 

She herself couldn’t imagine prioritizing anything above the practice of her element, but she had a very different relationship to it than he did. _She_ was the prodigal bender in her family. _She’d_ never been hurt by water the way Zuko had been hurt by fire. 

He nodded.

“I’ve never admitted that to anyone before,” he looked up at her, gaze soft and open. "Not even myself."

She stared back, blushing just a bit, though that could be the weight of the sun on her cheeks. 

She was getting rather used to being Zuko’s confidant. It made her feel special, and she enjoyed that. She felt strangely honored to be able to tease information out of the boy who was so intensely private and prickly when it came to his past. 

"So what about you?" His question caught her off guard.

" _What_ about me?"

"Have you practiced with any weapons before? Or know any hand-to-hand?"

Katara shook her head. "No, that was all reserved for the boys of our tribe," she scowled a bit, "even in the North Pole, I had to challenge Master Pakku to a public duel before he agreed to teach me how to use my bending to fight, instead of just healing."

"You challenged a master waterbender to a duel?" Zuko looked impressed, and it made her blush a bit with pride. 

"Yes, I did." She straightened her shoulders. 

"Wow. That's impressive. And you won?"

"In a way...he agreed to teach me to fight in the end."

"I'm glad. Only teaching boys how to fight is ridiculous." Katara looked up at him in surprise. She'd never really heard much about the role of women in Fire Nation society. 

"Are all the girls in the Fire Nation taught?"

"Oh yeah, all the kids are" then he shrugged sheepishly, "though that's probably more to help increase the number of troops than anything else." Katara couldn't imagine living in such a militarized country. In her tribe, becoming a warrior had always been about more than just fighting. It was more spiritual than that. 

Zuko kept talking, "Even for non-benders, fighting is important, I mean my-" he blushed, "-uh, Mai, she uh, she's the best knife thrower I've ever met."

Katara bristled at the mention of the girl who'd tried to kill her back in Omashu. "She your girlfriend?" Katara bit out.

Zuko looked a bit surprised, "Um, well...ex-girlfriend I guess," he looked down, "I haven't seen her since I was banished."

Katara tried very hard to maintain a neutral expression. "Oh."

"Yeah...oh."

They both looked at their feet and endured a decidedly more awkward silence than before. 

"What about you?" Zuko blurted, she looked back up, "Do you have anyone uh...waiting for you?" He looked constipated.

Somehow, Katara's mood darkened even further. "No," she snapped, then softened when he flinched. "I mean...sorry, it's touchy, I," she took a deep breath, "There _was_ someone, but he betrayed me a long time ago by trying to do something unthinkable, and then back in Ba Sing Se...he ended up helping us against the Dai Li and he....he didn't make it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, he wasn't...I got over Jet a long time ago."

" _Jet_?" He asked. She nodded, nonplussed. "Not _freedom fighter_ Jet?" he gaped at her.

"Uh yeah, actually," she studied him, "Wait, did _you_ know Jet?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, we uh, we actually sort of bonded on the journey to the city," she felt lost, "I mean, he thought I was 'Lee', just another refugee, burned by the Fire Nation.." he looked down at that. Katara thought about how that part wasn't technically untrue. 

"Wow, small world."

He shrugged. "Yeah, he eventually suspected me and Uncle of being Firebenders, but he had no proof, so he began stalking us. He wasn't very subtle about it either." Katara's eyes widened as she listened, "Eventually he broke into our tea shop back in the lower ring ready for a fight."

"And?"

Zuko smirked, "And, you're not the only one who enjoys a public duel every now and then." She huffed a laugh. 

"Did you win at least?"

"Sort of, eventually the Dai Li carted him away.." he squinted at the sky, "It's a shame, though..even after all that, I don't think he deserved to go like that."

Katara studied him. _Zuko could never be anything like his father_ , she decided. _He's too compassionate, even if he hides it under layers of anger and stoicism._

"Yeah." 

"It's sort of funny when you think about it," he said.

"What?"

"Your ex attacked me and vice versa."

She smiled. "Maybe we should be a bit more careful with who we choose to date."

"Yeah," he stood, offering her his hand. "Maybe we should."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i know jet and katara didn't really "date", but i also don't care


	19. The Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of/implied cultural genocide

Zuko stood from his spot at the table next to Katara and took her empty plate for her.

“Oh you don’t have to-” she blushed.

“It’s not a problem,” he blushed back. 

Toph wanted to throw up her delicious dinner. Technically, she couldn’t see the blushes gracing both of their faces whenever they interacted with each other, but she _could_ hear the way their heart rates sped up and their temperatures increased slightly. 

Also, she wasn’t _stupid_. 

It would take an idiot (of which, she admitted there were a few on this ship) not to notice the tension between those two that had only been growing since their little bonding day back in Ba Sing Se. 

Iroh knew and was definitely delighted that his beloved nephew was finally able to indulge in something as mundane and teenager-y as having a crush and flirting a bit (even if Zuko was _not_ smooth).

Sokka knew and was trying to remain impartial out of respect to his sister’s independence and his budding bromance with Zuko ( _if anything_ , Toph thought, _Sokka might also be a bit in love with Zuko_ . _He’s like catnip to these Water Tribe teenagers._ )

Aang knew, and he was _not_ happy about it. His own crush on Katara had always been painfully obvious, and now he was dealing with natural feelings of jealousy and competition. Eventually though, Toph knew he’d get over his hurt feelings and envy, as well as his crush. These were just growing pains along the path to maturity. And when he wasn’t sulking, Aang was also learning to befriend Zuko.

(They’d had an especially memorable night where Iroh had let slip Zuko’s ability to play the Tsungi horn, and Aang had a fit of delight dancing along after Zuko grudgingly agreed to play with his Uncle singing a traditional Fire Nation song completely out of tune.)

Toph herself didn’t really care whether Katara and Zuko did or didn’t ever kiss each other. She just wanted her friends to be happy. Just because she didn’t understand the appeal of all the sappy love crap, didn’t mean she didn’t respect her friends who did. 

Even if they couldn’t get their shit together and admit it. 

No, the only people besides Aang that were growing more and more disapproving of Zuko and Katara’s obviously growing bond were the elder Water Tribesmen. Including Hakoda. 

She couldn’t see all the angry looks Bato and others sent Zuko when he nudged Katara’s shoulder or when she laughed a bit too loudly at his attempt at a joke, but she could hear the way the men grew quieter in the halls when Zuko walked by. She could hear the too loud scraping of fork on plate after Zuko took his now-usual spot next to Katara. 

Not to mention, she’d overhead an interesting snippet of conversation when passing near the Chief’s office a day or so ago.

_“Do you really trust him?” she’d recognized Bato’s voice._

_“He hasn’t yet betrayed us-” Hakoda responded._

_“I mean with Katara!”_

_“Katara is very mature, and I trust her-”_

_“But how could you trust an entitled Fire Nation boy to be around her...Hakoda, they killed Kya! They killed Nikka! They-”_

_Hakoda’s rough voice had cut him off, “I’m well aware of everything the Fire Nation has taken from us. And I don’t disagree with you, but-”_

_Someone had started walking down the staircase, and Toph had been forced to keep walking._

Even as she recalled this episode, she heard the gruff voice of Katara and Sokka’s father and the scraping of a chair as he stood. “Yes, thank you, Prince Zuko. Why don’t you remain behind tonight and assist me with the dishes?”

It was an innocuous enough request, but Toph had a feeling this was Hakoda’s way of finally getting another chance to speak to the Prince alone without drawing too much ire from his daughter or son who’d been monopolizing most of Zuko’s time.

“I can help too-”

“No, Katara,” Hakoda responded, “not tonight.”

“But-”

“Tonight is a full moon. Don’t you want to use this opportunity to work with Avatar Aang on his waterbending?”

It wasn’t a request. 

Besides, he was right. While Toph herself had been practicing her metal bending a bit (not to mention the code Zuko was teaching her), it was hard for Toph to work on earthbending with Twinkle Toes while they were stuck floating across the ocean. She and Katara had come to the agreement that for the remainder of their time on the ship, Aang should prioritize his waterbending practice. 

“Alright.”

There was more scraping of chairs and clatter of plates as the whole table began to rise and deposit their dishes in the kitchen. Sensing Zuko to her right, she tapped out a message on his arm:

_\--. --- --- -.._

_.-.. ..- -.-. -.-_

_Good Luck._

\-------------------

Zuko braced himself. It seemed like he’d finally have to face the promised follow up conversation with Chief Hakoda. He’d been lucky so far in his evasion, only because Hakoda was busy planning for some kind of invasion that Zuko wasn’t supposed to know about yet and because Hakoda’s own children were always stuck to him like glue. 

It seemed Zuko was now everyone’s teacher in one way or another. He’d finally let Sokka hold and swing one of his Dao swords and was happily surprised at his aptitude once he stopped messing around. He and Katara had done a bit of hand-to-hand sparring that only ended when she had him pinned to the deck, face an inch away from his, and he’d decided that for his own sanity, he’d show her knife throwing instead. 

He was teaching Toph the secret Fire Nation code and even Aang had hinted at Zuko becoming his firebending “Sifu” once he’d completely finished mastering earthbending.

But now, it seems even his attempts at helpfulness could not save him from this particular fate. Sighing, he followed the chief back towards the kitchen. 

Not going to start the conversation, he immediately began to rinse and scrub. Hakoda took a rag, slowly drying dishes and observing him. Zuko continued to rinse.

“When I was your age,” the man began slowly, “I realized I was in love with a girl in my tribe, daughter of one of the warriors who’d begun to train me. I didn’t know her all that well, but we had an instant connection after she helped save me from falling through a patch of thin ice while ice fishing. Back then, our tribe was much larger, you understand…”

Zuko was taken aback. This was not the angle he’d expected Hakoda to take, but he listened intently, not wanting to interrupt. He continued to scrub the same plate several times. 

“Her name was Kya,” the man’s voice was wistful as he pronounced the simple but lovely name, “and she was radiant, inside and out, both beautiful and fierce. She wasn’t a bender, but she had all the courage of one…” Hakoda sighed and set another dish aside. “I see so much of her in Katara.”

Zuko could only nod. Hakoda finally paused, turning to face Zuko. 

“Do you know what happened to her, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko’s throat was dry. He could remember Katara’s broken voice echoing in the catacombs, _“The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.”_

He looked at Hakoda, making sure he made eye contact, “She was killed,” his voice had no inflection, “in a Fire Nation raid.”

Hakoda’s own eyes were inscrutable. He nodded. 

“The raiders were sent to kill the last southern waterbender. They’d already wiped out the rest of the population over the years, and there had been none left. At least until Katara was born...Kya knew almost right away, and though I worried for her safety, I began searching the South Pole in the desperate hope I could find a master to help train her, so one day she could protect herself.”

The chief turned and closed his eyes in pain. “Though I was unsuccessful, I’ve never been able to shake the fear that it was my inquiry that somehow alerted the Fire Nation to a new waterbender’s presence.”

Zuko finally spoke again. “I don’t think so. I think the Firelord would have continued sending raids whether or not he believed there were any benders left. If only to maintain the psychological warfare, he-” Zuko paused and paled, “w-we were taught in schools about strategy, about….the importance of not only defeating your enemy, but making sure they could never rebuild, never rise back up.” 

The words shamed Zuko as he said them, and not for the first time he thought back on everything he’d been taught in school with a sense of utter revulsion. They’d been taught that cultural genocide was a way of “paving the path for progress, for the spread of a new and better culture.” The idea made him want to throw up now. 

“I see,” Hakoda’s face was impassive but his voice was disturbed, “Regardless, the fact that I was unable to protect her when it mattered most still haunts me,” to Zuko’s horror a single tear ran down the stoic looking man’s face, “Katara was there, you know, when it happened...I couldn’t protect Kya, and I couldn’t protect Katara from Kya’s death either.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko’s voice cracked as he said it. It was the same thing he’d said to Katara in the catacombs. It had been inadequate then, and it felt inadequate now. But it was all he could say. 

“The man who killed her was a firebender,” it came out as a whisper.

Zuko sucked in a breath. _Of course he was_. 

“We call firebenders _ashmakers_ , Prince Zuko,” Zuko winced at the title, but Hakoda continued in a heavy voice, “For our tribe, fire is as necessary an element as water. We need it to cook our meat, to keep us warm in the long winters. Fire is a facet of life, but for us...those who _wield_ fire have only ever brought destruction, death, _misery_.”

Zuko remembered the unimaginable, unthinkable pain of his father’s fire as it had burned his face. _Yes_ , he thought, _fire can be suffering_ . _But it can also be so much more._

Even in Zuko’s own memories, it was the Firelord and the Fire Nation which had corrupted his relationship to his element. Who had corrupted the entire world’s perception of it. _They hate us, and they’re right. We have to do better_. 

Zuko was brought back to the present when Hakoda spoke again, “You care about my daughter.”

It wasn’t a question. In fact, Zuko realized Hakoda hadn’t asked him any questions yet. 

“I-” there was no use in lying, “Yes...yes, sir, I do.”

“And she cares about you.” A raised eyebrow.

_I don’t understand why, but_ “I guess so.”

“You know the necklace Katara wears was Kya’s necklace. It was passed down from my mother to me, and I gave it to Kya to signify our betrothal. Like all betrothal necklaces in the Water Tribe, it was hand carved. These necklaces are an important part of our culture, do you understand?”

Zuko nodded. 

“Do you know the reason I didn’t cut you down where you stood when you arrived back on my ship in Chameleon Bay?”

Zuko shook his head. 

“Because I knew that if my daughter had given you that necklace to hold onto as a token of affection-” Zuko blushed thinking of it like that “-it means she claimed you.”

Zuko blanched, “No, I don’t mean as a sign of betrothal, Prince Zuko,” continued somewhat wryly, “but in a more spiritual sense. I could not have killed you when you were under my daughter’s protection even if I’d wanted to.”

“And now?” Zuko’s voice was faint. 

“I have no wish to harm you, Zuko.” The man eyed his face from the left side. “I dare say you have also suffered at the hands of the Fire Nation. You chose the path of redemption when you saved my daughter and the Avatar in the Earth Kingdom. Nothing you have done since leads me to believe you wish to do anything but make reparations for the harm your people have caused by ending this war. Not all of my men agree with me, but I do not believe in punishing a son for the sins of his father.” Zuko let out a small breath.

It was comforting to know the Chief wasn’t actively planning Zuko’s murder along with his invasion plan.

“I say that as a Chief...though as a father, I still have some reservations, specifically about your relationship with my daughter.” 

Zuko heart rate increased once again. “What do you mean?”

“There’s a reason I mentioned Kya. I know what it’s like to be a young man, to fall in love with a strong young woman-”

“I-I-I-’m not-I mean I don’t-”

Hakoda ignored him, “I am not unsympathetic to the strength of young affection, but I have failed my daughter too many times already in her short life.”

His blue eyes froze Zuko where he stood. 

“I will never force my daughter to choose between her people and her heart...but if there _ever_ comes a time when your personhood threatens the lives of my people or my children, I will _not_ hesitate to choose their lives over yours...If you ever come _close_ to hurting my daughter the way the Fire Nation has hurt our people, I _will_ kill you myself.”

He put his large hand on Zuko's shoulder. "That's a promise."

With that, Hakoda left Zuko alone in the kitchen with a pile of unwashed plates and head spinning with thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, in case there could be any confusion to those who've been following this, I recently changed my username; it's now Kaatiba / كاتبة


	20. The Confrontation

Katara knocked on the door to Zuko and his Uncle’s room, trying to hide her flush when the scarred boy’s face appeared looking sleep-rumpled and unguarded, though he tensed when he saw it was her.

She shrugged it off, smiling. “Why have you been hiding out in here all morning, sleepyhead?” she teased.  “Sokka is dying to spar again, but I was sort of hoping I could steal you for a bit, maybe have our own sparring rematch, fire versus water,” her tone was light, but she could see the growing anxiety in his eyes and wasn’t pleased at that reaction. 

“What’s wong?” she asked, no longer feeling playful at all. Zuko just looked at his feet and mumbled something incomprehensible. 

Katara put her hands on her hips and tutted at him. 

“You’re being weird…Did my Dad say something to you last night?”

Zuko didn’t confirm or deny, but the way his head popped up and eyes widened said it all. 

_ How dare he? _ She fumed silently, _ meddling in my...friendships. _

She glared at Zuko. “Did he tell you to  _ stay away from me _ ?” she demanded.

“Uh, not in so many words..”

She glared harder, “And you just  _ listened  _ to him?” 

Katara had thought Zuko understood how much she hated feeling controlled by her father and the men in her life.  _ How dare he play right into that kind of patriarchal bullshit _ …

She’d get even with him another time, preferably by putting him into a “friendly” headlock. For now, she had bigger fish to fry. She’d waited long enough. 

“I’ll deal with  _ you  _ later,” she promised the scared looking teenage boy in front of her, feeling vindicated as he took an involuntary step backwards, and then she was stalking down the hall towards the  _ Chief’s  _ cabin. 

\-----------------------------

  
  


She shut the door with a resounding slam. Hakoda calmly looked up from his paperwork. 

“Good morning, Katara.” He’d been expecting her. 

“ _Did you tell Zuko to stay away from me?_ ” she got straight to the point as usual. 

“No, I did not.”

“But..” she faltered just a bit. 

“I didn’t tell him to do anything, but we did talk,” Hakoda confirmed. 

“About  _ me _ ?” she snapped.

“Among other things, yes.”

“You had no right!”

Hakoda raised his eyebrow, “No? I am your father..not to mention I have responsibility for everyone in this Tribe.”

Katara scoffed, cheeks aflame, “Well that’s  _ rich _ .”

It was his turn to falter. “What do you mean?”

_ “YOU LEFT US!”  _

Her words landed like a suckerpunch to Hakoda’s stomach.

“I know you did it to protect us by ending the war, but in the meantime,  _ the war still found us,  _ Dad!  _ And you weren’t there! _ ” an angry tear fell down her cheek, but she was unfazed by it.  “For  _ two years _ , we didn’t know if you were alive or dead,” more tears traced her cheeks, “and for all you knew, we could’ve been dead too!”

The truth of her words nestled in Hakoda’s heart. They were thoughts he’d had plenty of times when he’d lain awake at night thinking of the family he’d left behind. 

“You’re so worried about Zuko now? But what about when he actually  _ came to the South Pole before he switched sides!  _ He could’ve burned our whole village down, and you wouldn’t have even  _ known _ ! Lucky for you, Zuko still had a heart buried beneath his cold exterior, but we had to take care of ourselves.”

She continued, “All that time, we protected ourselves, and then we traveled with the Avatar and we’ve seen as much battle and struggle as you have!” Her chest heaved, “But now we’re back and you’re treating me like the little girl you left behind, and I’m  _ not _ !”

Hakoda’s own eyes were prickling with bitter tears. Katara was silent now, watching him, breathing heavily. He stood up slowly approaching her. 

“Katara,” his voice was heavy with emotion, “You’re right.” She sucked in a breath.

“And I’m sorry if I’ve been underestimating you...Old habits die hard, and I’m sorry if my need to protect you has blinded me to the ways you’ve grown up...I’ve made mistakes, but I hope you’ll forgive me for them.”  He bowed his head, wishing he knew what to say to make things right with his daughter, wishing he could take back the time spent away from his kids during their formative years, wishing Kya was beside him, helping him parent. 

“...I love you more than  _ anything,  _ Katara. You and your brother are my entire world. I thought about you  every day when I was gone and  every night when I went to sleep, I would lie awake missing you so much it would  _ ache _ …” he couldn’t finish, all the grief of the war and what it had taken from their family hitting him in waves.

With his head down, he didn’t notice Katara stepping forward. He didn’t notice until he felt her arms wrapping around his shoulders. 

“It’s okay, Dad,” she whispered, the heat gone from her words. “I understand why you left. I really do, and I know that you had to go, but I can’t stop feeling angry and hurt and sad.” He embraced her back. 

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t still love you,” she said softly. “I can’t promise not to feel angry, but I’ll always love you.”

She pulled back finally, “Just...don’t meddle in my personal life anymore, okay? Just trust me," she implored.

“I do, Katara.” He brushed an old tear from her cheek. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm barfing at my own melodrama lol


	21. The Traitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> duh, duh, duh...

Katara had coaxed him into a “friendly’ sparring match, and now Zuko was lying on the deck sopping wet. 

“Do you feel better now?”  _ Am I forgiven? _

“Hmmm,” Katara pretended to think, but offered him a hand up, “Yes.”

“Okayyy, my turn now!” Zuko turned to see Sokka who’d jumped up from where he’d been sitting, watching. Toph and Aang were also lounged around, watching the sparring. Aang was feeding Momo some dried fruit Zuko found, while Toph bent and rebent a fork from the kitchen into different shapes. 

Zuko still couldn’t believe she’d invented a  _ new form _ of earthbending. Sometimes it scared him thinking about just how  _ good  _ all of his fellow-benders were. Sometimes it made him nervous, used to the pressures of living in Azula’s shadow, but now he knew none of the people in this group would use their strength against him, at least not these days. 

As Sokka approached, Zuko obligingly pulled his Dao twin swords out, passing Sokka one. It still wasn’t ideal, dividing them like this, but Sokka would be ready to try using both soon enough. 

Katara passed him, offering her hand out. “Need a drying off?” Her face was twisted in faux-concern. 

He pretended to scowl at her, “I can handle it myself,” and then he proceeded to steam himself off while she traipsed away looking smug. 

Honestly, Zuko liked seeing her like that. He was amazed at how far she’d come in her bending abilities, and she deserved to bask in it sometimes. If he hadn’t seen where she’d started, with a miserable attempt at a water whip on board his wani, he’d never have believed how quickly she’d progressed. 

He redirected his attention to Sokka who tried to launch a surprise attack at him, running up from behind. Zuko simply knocked his sword away before turning around...just because he  _ could _ , and it was funny seeing the look on Sokka’s face, though Zuko always retained a straight face. 

“Was that a joke?” he tried not to let his mouth twitch.

Sokka responded by slicing the air in front of Zuko’s face, forcing him to take a step back.  _ Not bad _ . 

Zuko moved back in quickly with two fast diagonal slashes to the right then left, forcing Sokka to dodge then parry. Sokka managed to push him off, but Zuko simply spun, crouched down, then came up on Sokka’s weak side, holding his blade to the boy’s jugular. 

“You’re dead. Try again.”

And he did. For an hour, until both Zuko and Sokka were covered in sweat from the midday sun. Zuko let it energize him to keep him going, but he was getting uncomfortable under his Fire Nation soldier uniform. 

They finally took a break to get some water (and to mess around with the rest of the group), and Sokka stripped his own armor and shirt off, leaving his chest bare. He caught Zuko looking at him quizzically, “What? It’s hot out.” 

“I can always cool you both down,” Katara teased, levitating some of her bending water above her brother’s head. 

They sparred for another hour before Zuko decided it was unbearable. He called a time-out and stripped off his armor and shirt. He felt instant relief as the breeze hit his sweaty skin and his bare skin greedily absorbed the contact with the sun. It closed his eyes for a minute, just enjoying the sensation. Never before, in all his years of banishment, had he ever enjoyed being on a boat more. For once, he could actually take a minute to just breathe and relax. 

_ Okay, relaxing time is over _ , he thought. Time for Round Three. 

First, he made Sokka fight with one hand behind his back. Then, with the other. Then on one leg. Then, he gave him a blindfold made from a scrap of an old Fire Nation flag he’d found and made him wear it. 

It was then, well into the afternoon that Sokka managed to have Zuko by the neck with half of his own sword. Excitedly, Sokka pulled down the blindfold. Zuko felt at his neck where the blade had nicked him. His fingers came away with some blood, but he was smiling. 

Before Sokka could try to apologize, Zuko did a traditional Fire Nation bow. “Sokka of the Water Tribe, you are ready for both swords.” He handed his over to Sokka who weighed it in his left hand, getting used to the weight. 

“Until you get used to the balance of both swords together, I’m not going to spar with you directly.”

Sokka pouted just a bit, “So...that’s it for today?”

Zuko rolled his eyes.  _ Like we haven’t been training since the early morning well into the afternoon.  _

“Fine. Toph, can you throw things at him, so he can learn to use the swords to dodge projectiles?”

Toph beamed, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Before Sokka could object to this exercise, Zuko walked over to Aang, Katara, and Momo who were all lounging around Appa who now shaded them a bit from the sun so they wouldn’t burn. 

Zuko nodded at Aang, “If Toph gets tired, maybe you can airbend some stuff at Sokka tomorrow?” 

Aang chuckled and nodded.“Well, the monks told us to use words, not projectiles,  _ but  _ if it helps Sokka’s training I guess I’m honor-bound!” 

Zuko let one corner of his mouth drag up. He had gotten pretty fond of the kid. On Bad Days, the voice of his father still mocked him, told him  _ you’re weak for befriending and helping the Avatar, the bane of Fire Nation Glory. _

But today wasn’t a bad day. 

He patted Appa’s head and got a giant lick in response. 

“Maybe I’ll take that drying off after all,” he told Katara, slumping down beside her. 

“Mm, sorry, offer expired,” she said, nudging her shoulder with his, then squealing when she got Appa slobber on her. Zuko was distracted by the feel of her  _ shoulder  _ against his own bare shoulder. Agni help him. 

“Hey! What’s that?” Katara had noticed the nick on the side of his neck. 

“Courtesy of your brother,” he shrugged, feeling vaguely proud of his pupil. He felt relaxed and content in general, the sun was just beginning to go down, and with it, he was approaching a sleepy lull. 

Katara harumphed. He found the noise quite endearing. “Hmmm, I don’t know whether to smack him or congratulate him then,” she said as she pulled her bending water to her left hand, moving it to his neck. Her right hand rested on the other side of his neck, even though there was no cut there. He didn’t think that was entirely necessary, but hey, he wasn’t the healer, and besides, he wasn’t complaining at the contact. 

Even after the water stopped glowing, Katara’s hand lingered. He could’ve sworn she glanced down at his lips. Or maybe he was the one looking down at her lips. He was suddenly acutely aware of his shirtlessness and her proximity and he could  _ feel  _ her breath and-

They were interrupted by a shout from one of the tribesmen, and everyone on deck turned toward the noise. “It’s a Fire Nation ship!”

Hakoda appeared at the helm and called out to everyone on deck, Bato moving to his side. “Everyone stay calm! They don’t know we’re not Fire Nation! Everyone that has a helmet, put it on!”

Katara and Zuko looked at each other wide-eyed, then they both lunged for their helmets which had been casually discarded by the railing. Katara held his while he rapidly threw his shirt and armor back on, ignoring the way it clung uncomfortably to his barely dried sweat. 

He was too busy sending up several prayers to Agni.

\-------------------------

They hadn’t been forced to ever wear the helmets before. This was their first real test of their ship’s disguise. Katara sucked in a sharp breath as she looked at the creepy eye holes in front of her. 

Aang and Toph ran to hide behind some cargo, being too young to disguise themselves as real soldiers. She and Zuko put their masks on. 

At least it hid some of her blush when she thought about what might have happened if she and Zuko hadn’t been interrupted...

Sokka helped some of the men conceal Appa from view before joining Katara and Zuko. They all stared at each other tensely, the face pieces of their masks pushed up for now. 

Katara saw Bato hurry below deck and hoped he successfully warned everyone down there to stay below. 

Beside them, the identical steam ship was fast approaching, pulling up to a stop parallel to their position. Likewise, she felt their own engine slow to a stop and eventually a plank was dropped between the rails, so the Fire Nation commander could board their ship. 

Her heart was thudding wildly in her chest. 

“It’ll be okay,” Zuko said, quickly squeezing her arm in comfort before pushing his face guard into place, covering his distinctive eyes. Sokka and Katara followed his lead. 

The unfamiliar commander approached her father where he stood by the railing, back straight, radiating his usual confidence, and demanded, “Why are you off course? All Western Fleet ships are supposed to be moving toward Ba Sing Se to support the occupation!”

Hakoda responded without blinking, “Actually, we're from the Eastern Fleet. We have orders to deliver some cargo.” He gestured towards some of the boxes stacked high across part of the deck which they’d used to their advantage to conceal Appa. 

The Fire Navy officer followed his gaze, “Ahhh ... Eastern Fleet. Well, nice of Admiral Chan to let us know he was sending one of his ships our way.” 

“I'm sure Admiral Chan meant no disrespect, sir,” Hakoda responded smoothly.

“I mean, how hard is it to write a quick note and send a hawk our way?” The officer grumbled, stepping closer toward her Dad to Katara’s discomfort. 

“Though, still, for the sake of routine, you understand, I need to do a quick check before you can be on your way.” 

He said it with an air of nonchalance, but it made Katara’s heart sink. If he looked too closely, surely he’d find Appa or... _ Oh Spirits, she felt queasy. _

“Of course, sir,” her Dad said, allowing the commander to pass, though she saw the strain in his shoulders.

The commander’s guards followed behind him. He whistled casually as he meandered around the various stacked boxes. Katara felt the collective breath of the present crew stutter as he approached the only tall box truly shielding Appa’s hiding spot from view aside from the red blanket that barely hid his gigantic form at all. 

_ If he saw, there was absolutely no way to explain it...their cover would be blown, and they’d have to fight their way out, either damaging the ship which they needed to enact the invasion plan, or worse, someone could get hurt or…. _ Katara’s thoughts raced. 

“What’s this?” the commander made a move as if to push the box to the side, seeing a bit of the large red cloth behind it-

_ -If they found Appa they’d know that the ship was stolen, but also that the Avatar was on it as well...They could capture or kill Aang, and then everything would be- _

-At that moment, Zuko “tripped” into the commander, sprawling against his chest in an exaggerated show of clumsiness.  _ What is he doing? _

“Sorry sir!” Zuko said, though he made no attempt to get out of the commander’s space. 

The officer growled in frustration and shoved Zuko away from him, hard. 

Zuko landed on the ground, so hard the face guard of his helmet fell down to the ground with a thud. Before he could grab it again, the officer’s hand had grabbed his collar and dragged him up from the ground, so they were almost face to face.

_ No _ .

“Why, I ought to-” The commander’s growl dissipated as he studied what he could see of Zuko’s face. His eyes and...his scar. 

_ No, no.  _

There was a moment of stillness where she could not read the officer’s face. There was, of course, a chance that he would not put the pieces together. Would not recognize the banished Prince. 

But Zuko’s distinctive face was now the face of a branded traitor. 

Luck was not on their side. 

“Imposter!” the commander cried, immediately landing Zuko with a sucker punch to the gut, dropping him to his knees before one of the guards went to restrain him. 

_ No, no, no, no- _

Katara jolted forward, but felt Sokka’s hand on her arm holding her back. She could not see his face, but she paused, common sense barely stopping her from making a scene. She had to wait for the right moment-

The commander furiously whirled around toward Hakoda, “Do you know you’re harboring a fugitive?! A Fire Nation traitor!” 

His hands were raised, ready to fight. And if he did, Katara doubted her Father would stand a chance against an experienced firebender. 

She softened her knees and mentally prepared to bend herself, ready to help fight their way out of this mess. She’d summon the power of the whole ocean if it meant protecting her family. 

Hakoda stepped forward and looked down at Zuko, who gazed back. It seemed like they were having some kind of silent conversation, then Katara blinked and their faces were blank. 

When Hakoda spoke, his voice came out as an angry and betrayed roar. “You lied to me, you scum?!” 

Katara’s heart dropped down to her stomach as she realized what they were doing. 

It was all too believable. Katara was equal parts impressed and appalled as her Dad towered over her friend. 

“I’m sorry, sir-” Zuko began, but Hakoda cut him off with a backhand to the face that sent the rest of his helmet flying off completely. 

Katara wanted to cry, but the action seemed to pacify the naval officer somewhat. 

“You’re telling me you haven’t seen the warrant for Prince Zuko’s arrest? There are wanted posters plastered everywhere!” She looked at Zuko, but he didn’t react. He must have expected this. If she’d thought about it more, she would have too.

Hakoda shook his head, looking somber and confused.  _ Who knew he was such a good actor _ , she thought numbly. “This young man introduced himself to me under a different name, I had no idea. We haven’t been to port in over a month now!”

The naval officer seemed to consider this explanation. He turned back down to Zuko with a sneer. “If that’s the case, then surely you’d have no problem allowing my ship to take the traitor to the capitol and collect the Firelord’s bounty?” There was the challenge. 

This was it. 

_ Please, Dad, please. We can fight, we can. It’s not too late _ , Katara begged silently. 

Sokka squeezed her arm tightly enough to bruise as her Dad nodded slowly. 

“Please, by all means...take this piece of trash out of my sight.”

Zuko bowed his head and closed his eyes in what looked like defeat, not making a sound as he was roughly pulled to his feet and dragged toward the gangplank. 

Right before he stepped across, he turned around in her direction. She saw two different emotions warring on his face: relief and regret. 

Right then and there, Katara decided she  _ hated  _ him. 

She hated that stupid, idiotic martyr with all of her heart. 

  
But she  _ was  _ going to get him back. And woe to the man or spirit that tried to stop her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, actual plot gross.


	22. The Split

Hakoda’s heart was heavy as he watched the steamship become a speck on the horizon. He never imagined he’d feel so miserable watching a Fire Nation ship sail  _ away _ . 

_ It was the right thing to do _ , he told himself.  _ Zuko is a man, and he knows what sacrifice for the good of the many is. He chose this. _

Still, Hakoda felt sick. He didn't wish any ill upon the boy. He didn’t want to turn around and face the accusing stares of his own children, but he had to. He squared his shoulders. 

Right on cue, Katara was in front of him, hands clenched in fury. Her helmet was discarded, and her long hair was whipping around her in the wind like it was fueled by her anger.

“How could you!?” she cried, stomping her foot. He watched as his son came up beside her, looking upset but staying silent. 

Sokka put his hand on his sister’s arm in a calming gesture, “Katara-” he soothed.

“Don’t  _ Katara  _ me!” she shrieked. “I know you don’t like him,” she threw this accusation at Hakoda now, “but you can’t..he..you don’t know what they might do to him!” At this, the levy broke, and angry, worried tears finally started to stream down her face. 

Somehow Hakoda’s heart grew even heavier. She looked so much like her mother sometimes, it punched a hole in his gut. He went to place a hand on her shoulder, but she stepped away from him before he could.

“Don’t touch me!” 

With that, she ran below the deck. Out of his periphery, Hakoda watched her young friends go after her, though his son lingered behind.  His young face was uncharacteristically grave. 

“I know why you did it,” Sokka rubbed his arm, “and I know Zuko wanted you to play along…”

“But?" Hakoda knew his son had more to say.

Sokka sighed, looking out towards the horizon, no doubt using his sharp mind to calculate strategy and figure out the ship’s speed and direction and how to catch up to it. 

“We can’t desert him. He’s our friend now. But  _ you  _ can’t stray from your mission. If you turn back now, we’ll never gather enough troops to pull off the invasion plan.”

Hakoda said nothing, having anticipated all this. 

“We’re going to have to split up again.”

Hakoda examined his son’s stoic expression, but could see the sadness behind his eyes. He grasped Sokka’s arm before pulling him into a tight hug. 

“It won’t always be like this, son.” Sokka just nodded into his shoulder. 

He pulled away. “I’m so proud of you, Sokka. You’re going to make an excellent Chief one day.”

Sokka straightened, squaring his shoulders like Hakoda himself had done. 

“Time to chase after Zuko for once.”


	23. The Prisoner

Zuko’s shoulder ached as it slammed against the far metal wall of the tiny holding cell beneath the Fire Navy Commander’s ship. It didn't help that his muscles were already sore from a day of training. He obviously wouldn't have pushed himself so hard if he'd known he'd become a _captive_ later.

“Sit up straight, boy,” the same commander mocked from the doorway.

Zuko did so, trying to stand tall like he always did. _“There is still dignity in defeat,”_ his Uncle used to say. He hoped Uncle wasn’t too worried or mad at him right now…he wondered who would tell him what had happened. 

_Just a few hours ago, he'd been joking around and sparring with his friends. He'd watched the sunset with Katara and they'd nearly-_

“Do you know who I am?” The man asked, snapping him back to his more depressing reality. Zuko examined him. He reminded Zuko of Zhao, though maybe a bit less cunning. 

He shook his head.

“You’ll answer me out loud when I speak to you.”

“No,” Zuko grumbled. 

He was caught off guard by the slap in the face. “You’ll also address me as _sir_.” The man smirked.

_Maybe not so cunning, but equally cruel_ , Zuko decided. 

“No, _sir_ ,” he bit out as sarcastically as possible. Unsurprisingly, it gained him a backhand. He knew Hakoda had tried to go easy on him earlier, but his jaw and cheek were still growing sore. He hated thinking about getting a black eye again. He hated the way that along with his scar made him look like an angry raccoon. He hated everything about this situation.

_At least everyone on the ship should be alright, Uncle, Aang, Sokka, Toph...Katara._

“I’m commander Nazaki,” the man said imperiously, once more demanding his attention. 

“Congratulations,” Zuko drawled.

This time he braced for the hit before it came. 

“Enjoy that attitude while it lasts, boy.” Just then, a guard came in and whispered something to the commander who smiled in a way that twisted Zuko’s gut. 

“It seems your new cell is ready, Your Highness.” Zuko couldn’t hide his confusion. He was already standing in a fireproof holding cell, standard for most warships. 

“Ah, you see, since you’re such a _special guest_ , we thought we’d use the newest upgrade to our brig. The technology is straight from our brothers over at the Boiling Rock.”

Zuko’s eyes widened a bit. He’d heard tales of The Boiling Rock. He knew it was the highest security prison in the Fire Nation. Though he tried not to show it, he dreaded thinking about what kind of punishments they might concoct there for firebenders in particular. Two guards entered the room and dragged him down a long hallway until they reached the end of the floor. Zuko watched one guard twist the creaky handle of the slim metal door, raising an eyebrow as fog rushed out.

The inside was so bright compared to the dingy interior of the ship that it hurt his eyes. 

It looked like...a cooler. 

Zuko could have laughed.

While it was true that firebenders didn’t do well away from their element and had less tolerance for cold, his Uncle had drilled his Breath of Fire into him ever since he was first banished. Zuko had survived a _blizzard in the North Pole_. He could deal with this silly little fridge. 

Nazaki, maybe more cunning than Zuko had believed, must’ve seen some of the relief on Zuko’s face. 

“Oh, I forgot about the best part, Your Highness,” he pulled a pair of thick metal cuffs from a hook beside the door. Zuko squinted to see the symbols etched on the front. His heart sunk as he took in the familiar character. 

“That’s right,” Nazaki smirked, “Enjoy your new chi-blocking cuffs.”


	24. The Warpaint

Sokka was mildly confused when General Iroh, or _Uncle_ as he’d started to think of him, approached him. The old man’s usually jovial face was grim and intense. Sokka was reminded what a powerful firebender he was. He had no doubt he’d scorch the earth beneath his feet to get his beloved nephew back. 

Thinking of this, Sokka asked, “Are you _sure_ you don’t want to join us?”

“No, I am too old and easily recognized for a stealth mission of this sort, and I will not risk slowing you down.” The old man closed his eyes and sighed. “My heart will go with you, but to make sure that Zuko’s noble sacrifice and risk has not been in vain, I will finally take up the role in ending this war I was always meant to.”

Sokka didn’t know what that meant. His confusion must’ve shone because Iroh chuckled sadly. 

“I have a few...friends I must call upon for this invasion of yours-” Sokka’s eyes widened, “-that I of course, know nothing about,” he soothed, winking, “It is about time I follow my nephew’s lead and start to take up the mantle of my own destiny...It is time I begin a new siege of Ba Sing Se...this time one of liberation.”

Sokka whistled. That was a big task, but somehow he believed if anyone could single handedly garner an uprising big enough to shake off the Fire Nation’s hold on the city, it would be the wise, tea-loving, horn-playing man before him.

Sokka bowed in respect. Iroh bowed back.

“But before you depart, I want you to take something.”

Sokka’s eyes widened as Iroh handed him the sheath with Zuko’s Dao swords. 

“I can’t, I only just started using both together at once today-”

Iroh brushed him off. “My nephew believes in you, and so do I. It is only fitting that you use whatever Zuko has taught you, even in your brief time together, to help him.”

Sokka blushed, but Iroh pulled something else out of his sleeve. It was a small pearl-handled knife with the phrase “Never give up without a fight” engraved on the blade. He placed it in Sokka’s hand.

“Now you’re just spoiling me,” Sokka joked weakly, at a loss for anything better to say.

“I gave this to Prince Zuko when he was just a child. I dare say it is one of his most treasured belongings. He too will need this reminder to see his way to the end of this war. If nothing else, I hope it will bring him a semblance of comfort to carry a token of my affection for him. I ask you to give it to him for me when you find him”

Sokka nodded, solemnly, taking it from the former general. He understood that Iroh was entrusting _him_ with a task dearer to him than anything else. 

Iroh spoke softly, “I have already lost one son to this war, and I do not want to lose another.”

Sokka was surprised when Iroh wrapped his arms around Sokka in an unexpected, but bracing hug. 

“The world has not been very kind to my nephew, and he has not had many friends along the way...I am forever indebted to you for showing him what real kindness and friendship looks like.”

Sokka threw the sheathed swords over his back, and placed the sheathed dagger in his belt next to his boomerang. He bowed one last time. 

“Thank you, Uncle. I will make sure your nephew gets back to you at the end of this war.”

With that, Sokka walked to his room with purpose.

Their plan was made. Their gang was ready, Katara practically vibrating with determined rage, Aang’s normally calm grey eyes were fierce and focused, and Toph was, as always, ready to kick the hell out of some Fire Nation ass. 

Sokka began dipping his fingers into the bowl of dark pigment, then smearing it under each of his eyes. He applied the grey and white pastes until his entire face was covered in the warpaint of his tribe. 

His part in the plan required utilizing his handy Fire Nation disguise… _but_ if he chose to wear his traditional warpaint underneath a fully covered Fire Nation helmet, who’d be any wiser?

The last time he donned full Southern Water Tribe war paint, he’d been preparing to defend his village _against_ Zuko. Now, he was preparing to save him. 

_Life was funny like that._

\---------------------------

Katara began dipping her fingers into the bowl of red pigment then smearing it between her eyelid and brow bone. She added more lines underneath her chin, across her cheeks, her neck.

Finally she put a bit of yellow paint on her thumb and twisted it on her forehead creating a half moon shape above her brow.

She looked at herself in the small mirror by the wash basin like she’d done when she’d first disguised herself on this ship.

The Painted Lady.

_It had been a throwaway story told around the small makeshift fire pit they’d set up one night on deck after it got dark so they could all pile around Appa who Aang feared was getting lonely._

_Toph bended an old metal chair into a small pit, and Zuko had provided the small amount of coal needed from the engine room and kept the flames going while they chatted, tossing around stories._

_At Zuko’s turn, he blushed. “Well, there is one folktale my mom used to tell me..it’s a Fire Nation legend, I mean I doubt she’s real but, uh, there’s this one spirit called,” his raspy voice dropped in something like reverence, “the Painted Lady.”_

_Zuko wasn’t the best storyteller of the group, but something about the dark night air and the way his face was half lit with flames made her shiver and pay close attention_

_She’d had her feet casually strewn across Aang’s who also perked up. Out of all of them, he was the one most interested in hearing about old Fire Nation culture, the culture of the country he remembered and missed._

_Zuko has turned out to be somewhat of a history buff and a Romantic one to boot, so he tended to indulge Aang’s interest._

_“A long long time ago, in a small fishing village in the middle of nowhere called Jang Hui……”_

Sokka had told them they needed a distraction. Something _big_ .

“Think _Zuko-level_ overdramatic” were his exact words.

“You mean like going all vigilante style and impersonating a spirit?” Toph asked. 

Katara and Aang had just looked at each other and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am playing FAST and LOOSE with the Painted Lady lore, we are pretending she is an urban legend all around the Fire Nation, not just specific to that one village. Also, imagine she's more of an avenging angel type spirit than a healing one.


	25. The Cold

Zuko didn’t know how long it had been since Nazaki had snapped the chi-blocking cuffs over his hands, feet, and to his fury, a collar around his neck. 

Zuko might have begun to accept his fate as a banished prince turned public enemy, but not even all of the humbling experiences of the past year combined could stop him from shaking with anger and humiliation as the collar had been placed. 

It could’ve been days, hours, weeks. Zuko was counting the passage of time through his breath. He tried to distract himself from the aching coldness that pierced him to his core by counting up to ten breaths then starting over. He fell into the same meditative breathing exercises he did with his Uncle that normally would’ve helped him call upon his Breath of Fire.

But now, when he turned his awareness down to his stomach, the center of the fire chakra,  _ Manipura _ , where his inner flame could normally be felt, there was just emptiness. It was one of the most terrifying things he’d ever felt.

It was worse, even, than the prickling pain of the cold around him. He’d heard of soldiers who’d lost limbs in war complaining of the pain where missing limbs once were, and he imagined the stabbing pain he felt in the cold pit forming above his navel must be something like that. 

His stomach had started growling earlier, but nobody had bothered to bring him any food. He doubted they would. Grimly, he wondered if they’d deign to feed him at all on their journey back to the Fire Nation. Maybe he’d starve to death before the cold took him. And even if he did make it all the way back to the Fire Nation, he knew he wasn’t awaiting a much better fate.

Maybe it would be better, to not have to face his father again. He’d stopped being hungry a while ago. The apathy was starting to kick in. He was becoming tired. 

Vaguely, he fantasized about the Avatar and his group breaking him out in some kind of hair brained but daring rescue mission. It brought him some comfort until he remembered just how risky it would be if Aang got caught.  _ No _ , he chided himself for wanting it so badly,  _ the Avatar’s safety is more important, defeating my father and ending the war is more important….no need for me to be a distraction...a burden...I’ve already done enough to delay victory… _

_ It’s okay,  _ he told himself, sort of believing it, _ I’ve never needed friends...I’ll get out of this on my own...like I always have.  _

_ His thoughts drifted to his mom and the way her chocolate brown hair used to tickle his face when she leaned over him. He thought about the time they’d visited the pond of the palace garden and discovered several newborn baby turtle ducks.  _

_ Now, his thoughts drifted to a green tinted cave, then a campfire, the feel of a shaggy bison padding his head as he leaned back, looking up at the stars, the weight of Katara’s necklace on his wrist, the feel of her shoulder whenever she bumped his playfully, her eyes, the way she looked at him sometimes and he could almost imagine... _

A fresh wave of agony washed over him as he moved a bit, reigniting the stinging bite of the cold, unnatural metal against his neck and the top of his spine. He was hunched over himself, trying futilely to conserve any body heat in his core where normally his flame flickered. 

_ He saw the back of Azula’s bun bobbing away, her laughter echoing, her voice sharp as it continued to fill his ears, “Dad’s going to kill you. Really..he is”- _

_ “Never forget who you are,” his mom turned and walked out of his life forever- _

_ He was on the deck of ship watching the shores of the Fire Nation-of his home-get smaller and smaller through his unbandaged eye- _

_ Katara caught his eye as she walked away from him in the catacombs- _

Suddenly Zuko had a desperate, singular thought.  _ I don’t want to die like this, alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to be left again… _

Distantly, he heard a muffled thud coming from above and something that might’ve been voices. He didn’t know anymore, everything was so confusing, and he just wanted to sleep and forget about everything. 

A crash, louder this time. 

“H-hhelloo?” he tried calling out, but his words slurred and probably didn’t make it past the cooler door. 

There was the terrible sound of metal scraping against metal, closer this time, and Zuko tried to stay alert, in case they came in, in case they tried to kill him, but the door swung open, Zuko saw a pair of Fire Nation boots, and then everything went black. 


	26. The Painted Lady

“Good luck,” Sokka whispered to his sister who was no longer his sister. 

Katara had manipulated an old red Fire Nation flag to look like a sweeping off the shoulder cloak, cinched at the sternum with a large white shell. The red stripes of paint went all the way from her face down to her exposed upper arms. She’d found a broad banded straw hat and manipulated sea foam to create a gauzy, ethereal veil that floated around her in the wind. 

The Painted Lady nodded at him. 

She turned to Aang and at his nod, they leapt off of Appa’s saddle where he was floating through the water under the cover of night, landing directly on top of a wave that she used to carry them around to the bow of the ship they’d caught up to.

Aang got to work lodging the grappling hook and rope they’d brought into the steel side of the ship then using his glider to fly up and balance on the new foothold. Now that he had a secure hiding spot and was close enough to the deck to peak over the side and see what was happening, the Painted Lady gave another cue, sending a wave back to where they came from.

At her cue, a drumming beat began to play. It was accompanied by an eerie flute melody and the sounds of an animal groaning. She smirked. The growls were Appa’s and the instruments were courtesy of their ship. Apparently, Music Nights were an important part of the Fire Nation naval tradition. 

The thought reminded her of Zuko and the way they’d teased him over his hidden talent on the tsungi horn. Her face hardened. 

“What’s that noise!” one of the night guardsmen asked. There were footsteps as he presumably dragged someone else over. 

“I don’t know.” They sounded creeped out.  _ Good _ , she thought.  _ But we can bring this up a notch _ .

Aang and Katara began working together to create a massive cloud of fog that they let curl over all the sides of the deck, masking them all from view. 

“Someone get the commander!” More footsteps. There was some shouting, though it was muffled below the threatening drum beat that seemed to echo from all sides of the ship. 

They waited, increasing the fog and the eerie music until they heard-

“What’s the meaning of this?!” It was the commander who’d taken Zuko earlier. Several agitated voices began speaking at once. “Enough!” he yelled, “get all hands on deck now, and clear this up immediately!” 

A nervous guard piped up, “But how, sir? It-it’s  _ fog _ .” 

The commander gave a growl and responded, “I don’t  _ care _ , figure it out!” There was the sound of people scrambling as more and more footsteps and voices arrived on the deck.

_ That should be about everyone _ , she thought.  _ Showtime _ . 

They let the fog at the bow of the ship dissipate some, so the air above it was visible. The Painted Lady pushed herself upward on a fierce wave, which sent her soaring up into the air. She launched her body forward, towards the deck of the ship, and as planned, Aang’s currents came to support her as she started to fall.

The sinister drumbeat stopped suddenly, so there was only an eerie silence and gasps as the Painted Lady seemingly floated down from the sky, landing on the deck without a sound. The rim of her hat blocked her eyes, and when she looked up sharply, a gust of wind was sent forth, knocking the closest soldiers back and startling the others. 

A cloud of mist continued to swirl at her feet as she silently stared down the line of Fire Nation soldiers. 

“Who are you? Name yourself!!” the commander from before stepped closer towards her, though she could see the shock in his eyes. 

_ You’re done _ , she thought. 

With that, she called forth a massive wave from beneath the ship, lifting the bow into the air and sending all the soldiers, including the commander, stumbling back into one another. 

When they finally got to their feet, the commander screamed, scuttling back a few feet, “What are you doing? Attack her!!”

One of the guardsmen who’d first heard the music responded, his voice choked in fear and awe, “S-sir, th-that’s  _ The Painted Lady _ ..” Several others muttered in agreement. 

Still, several firebenders stepped forward. She smirked. 

As one, they launched fireballs at her. Calmly, she felt the winds lift her above the blast completely, and while she was up in the air, cloak flowing around her, she summoned the power of the waves once more, flooding the deck and washing most of the crew overboard. 

She landed back on the deck. Now the commander himself charged forward, summoning a fire whip, but in his panic and desperation, his attack was sloppy. She simply side stepped him and brought her cloud of mist up to create a watershield that extinguished the flame. 

She felt the power of the air currents now pinning the Commander down to the deck. She knelt down, robes, hair, and veil whipping around her. She leaned down and whispered in a voice that was so cold and inhuman she didn’t recognize it, “ _Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation is under_ _the direct protection of the Painted Lady_..” she looked up at the few soldiers remaining who’d been smart enough not to fight her. 

“Spread the word,” she growled. “Anyone who harms the heir to the throne will not be allowed to survive, on the honor of the Spirits.”

With that, a massive blast of air tore through the deck of the ship, splintering wood, and sending all the remaining soldiers running. 

Sick of looking at their faces, the Painted Lady summoned one more massive wave that swept them overboard. 


	27. The Rescue

Sokka put down his binoculars. He’d seen  ~~ his sister  ~~ the spirit launch herself up onto the deck of the ship successfully. “Our turn,” he turned to Toph who set down her drum and grinned. 

“Finally,” she yawned as she stood, and then with the kind of raw power Sokka had only seen through the Avatar state, Toph bent her knees, flexed her arms and tore a hole through the metal side of the ship right in front of them, where they were position. 

“Holy Tui and Lau-” he muttered, but wasted no time in putting his Fire Nation helmet on and leaping from Appa’s saddle where he floated in the water next to the ship, hidden in its shadow. He landed in a crouch in the hallway now exposed by the giant hole in the side of the ship. 

“How long do we have again before this whole thing goes down?” he asked Toph anxiously. 

“Don’t worry, Snoozles, I won’t let it sink until you grab Sparky and get back safe.”

Sokka figured that was as close to a pep talk as he’d get from her, so he straightened and began quickly walking down the corridor. Above, on the deck he could hear some shouting.

It seemed the diversion was working well. 

He sucked in a breath as two guards started approaching him. He straightened his back and tried to act natural, nodding at them. They barely spared him a glance as they rushed past him, heading up towards the deck.

One of them turned, “What are you still doing down here? All hands on deck, Nazaki said so!”

Luckily for Sokka, they were already gone before he had to respond. He kept walking. It seemed that aside for him, the corridors were now deserted. Breathing easier, he began pulling open doors at random, unsure about where’d they keep Zuko.

He cheered to himself when he finally found what looked like the ship’s holding cell, and opened the door quickly in his haste, causing it to bang against the hallway. But Sokka deflated when all he saw was an empty room. 

_ Where the hell are you, Zuko? _ He thought anxiously. 

For a minute he had the terrible thought that maybe something had gone wrong, that they’d killed Zuko, left him to drown, or put him on another ship completely. 

_ No, no, I  _ have  _ to get him back safely. I  _ promised _.  _

His hand came behind his back to touch the dual dao swords that rested there.

He started running down the corridor now, flinging open all the doors as he went. 

Finally, he came to the last door on the hallway. _ If Zuko isn’t in here, then _ …

He tried to turn the large metal door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. It seemed to be locked, but this gave Sokka a spark of hope.  _ This has to be him _ . 

Sokka tried again, putting all of his body weight into it. There was an awful groaning sound of metal scraping against metal that echoed through the corridor, but still the door held firmly in place. 

Struck by an idea, Sokka unsheathed the dual blades. He looked at the handle, trying to decide what the weakest point on the metal would be. Breathing in deeply, he remembered what Zuko had taught him. 

_ “Let the swords become an extension of your body. When you think of them like that, they can do anything. Don’t limit yourself to what you think swordfighting looks like...when you let the swords become a part of yourself, they become an extension of your will.” _

Sokka breathed out through his nose, raised the swords above his head and let the blades slice downward in two twin arcs, hitting the handle at its weakest point. To his surprise and delight, the handles broke off to hit the floor with a resounding crash. 

He pulled the blades back just in time for the heavy door to fall open with a screech. He was hit with a wave of cold and blinked at the sudden brightness of what looked like...a cooler?

Sokka sucked in a breath as he finally caught sight of his friend within. 

Zuko’s naturally pale skin was almost white, and Sokka swore he could see a tinge of blue around his lips. He watched in horror as the pale gold eyes rolled backwards, and the boy went limp, only supported by the metal chains that tied his limbs together. 

Sokka felt fury rise in him as he took in the collar around Zuko’s fragile looking neck that was attached to the wall behind him. 

_ He hoped Katara was making them all pay for this _ .

Knowing he had to act quickly, Sokka slashed through the chain binding Zuko to the wall by the collar, then rushed forward to catch his head before it could hit the floor. The boy’s skin was too cold. Sokka felt a pulse, but it was slow and sluggish. He cradled the boy’s head in his lap for a moment, examining the rest of the cuffs that bound him. 

They were just too close to risk cutting them with the swords, he decided. He’d have to hope Toph could help bend them off. For now, he had to get Zuko out of here and warm him up, fast.

Sokka sheathed the twin blades, then scooped Zuko up in a sort of bridal carry. He started running as fast as he could with the added weight back down the hall towards where Toph and Appa were waiting with their getaway. 

He risked a glance down at the familiar scar and his mind flashed with horror stories from a life growing up in the South Pole about hypothermia and its victims. 

“Don’t worry, buddy,” he clutched the unconscious boy a bit tighter, “we’re not going to let anything happen to you.”


	28. The Heartbeat

Katara could feel the ship starting to tilt, slowly being pulled down. She had to assume Sokka had gotten to Zuko and they were now ready to flee on Appa. Without hesitating, she leaped off the side of the deck, letting a wave cushion her descent.

“Come on,” she called as she fell past Aang’s hiding spot. He obligingly jumped onto her wave and she propelled them around the side of the ship where their friends were waiting. 

The minute she saw the figures on the saddle, her vision tunneled to the single, limp figure lying in between Sokka and Toph.  _ Zuko _ .

She and Aang wasted no time joining them, Aang grabbing Appa’s reigns and calling “Yip, yip!” as Appa took to the sky heading away from the now sinking Fire Nation Ship. 

Katara ran forward and fell down by Zuko’s side, ripping off her hat and veil and anything else that might get in her way. She quickly did a once-over, scanning his body for obvious injuries, taking his pulse, feeling his breath against her palm, “What happened?” she drilled Sokka without turning to look at him. 

“I found him in some kind of-of cooler thing,” she felt Sokka shrug helplessly, “He’s too cold, Katara, I think hypothermia has set in-”

Katara nodded grimly. She knew all too well how deadly cold could be. “Start preparing for when we land,” she turned to call out to Aang, “Find somewhere as warm and dry as possible! We need to keep him away from any wind chill, anywhere sunny should help his energy as well,” she looked back to Sokka, “we’re gonna need all the blankets we have, start heating water, start a fire-”

She was distracted by a soft groan coming from Zuko. He wasn’t quite awake yet, but he was fitful and shaking slightly.  _ Good _ , she thought,  _ it’s worse if he stops shivering _ . 

Katara ripped the cloak she’d worn as the Painted Lady and wrapped in around Zuko, leaving enough of his chest exposed so she could take her bending water around her hand. She let it glow and then she placed it against his heart-

‘Ah!-” she pulled her hand away quickly. She felt like she’d just been burned. “What’s wrong?!” Sokka asked.

“I-he..h-his energy, his chi...it’s all  _ wrong _ ,” Katara finally started to feel the cracks of grief in the otherwise clinical demeanor she’d perfected when healing, “I don’t know why, but I can’t heal him if I can’t get to his energy!” she was breathing heavily now. 

Sokka could probably tell she was panicking, so he placed his arms around her. She was vaguely grateful for the weight as he turned to Toph, taking on his chief-in-training voice. “I think it might have something to do with those cuffs and that collar-” he pointed, “see that? It looks like the character for Chi, it’s probably what’s affecting his energy! Toph, can you bend the cuffs off?”

Toph nodded, uncharacteristically silent and somber as she leaned forward, closed her eyes and clenched her hands. At once, the cuffs and the collar popped off, exposing the raw flesh underneath. 

Katara hissed as she saw the red skin and bruises already forming along the fragile skin of Zuko’s neck. She was tempted to go back to the ship wreckage and guarantee there were no survivors.

_ But Zuko needs me to heal him, not avenge him right now _ . 

She brought her glowing water gloved hand back to his chest. She could feel his energy now, but it was weak.  _ Too weak _ . She flinched, remembering how the last time she’d touched his neck to heal, his energy had greeted hers as a burning pulse, strong and full of life...Now it felt more like a dying ember. The chi-blocking cuffs must’ve sped up the hypothermic process considerably, as well as causing who-knows-what other kinds of magical complications. 

She worried it would take some kind of miracle power-

Letting out a loud gasp that drew several questioning looks, Katara reached into her Water Tribe tunic which she’d put back on underneath her Painted Lady get up.  _ There it was! _

She held up the vial of water Pakku had given her from the Spirit Oasis. 

She waited nervously to see if Sokka would argue for them to save it for another time. Instead, he just looked at her seriously, “Will that be enough to help?”

Katara nodded, “I-I hope so,” she turned back to Zuko. She put her hand back against his chest. 

Toph shuddered, “his heart rate..it’s speeding up!” she sounded scared. 

_ No, no, no _ , Katara cried internally. “He’s going into cardiac arrest!” she cried,  _ it was now or never _ . She pulled the Spirit Oasis water around her hand and pressed it to the center of Zuko’s chest. The light as their energies connected was brighter than ever before. 

_ Please _ , she prayed to every spirit whose name she knew. 

The light died down. He gasped and his pale gold eyes shot open. “Zuko!” she cried, leaning forward to hug him tight. She pulled back just enough to listen to his heart beat which was still too slow, but steadier. 

After an anxious moment, she dragged herself away from his chest- his  _ heartbeat-  _ to look at his face. 

His good eye was slitted, like he was too exhausted to fully open it, but he was watching her. She leaned forward, so her hair brushed his chest. His lips were still too blue, and his skin too pale, but he smiled at her as much as he could, “Thank you, Katara,” he mumbled, voice still too slurred for her liking. 

Tears were now streaming openly down her cheeks. She couldn’t respond, so she just leaned down to press a soft kiss to his icy cheek. 

When she pulled back, his eyes were closed again, but his features looked more relaxed than before. 

“Where are those extra blankets?” she demanded weakly, sensing Sokka still watching them. As she heard him turn to gather more, she laid her head across Zuko’s chest so she could hear his heartbeat, and she wrapped her arms around him.  _ For warmth _ , of course. 

A few minutes later she felt Appa begin to slowly descend. She’d have more work cut out for her once they made camp, to make sure Zuko didn’t slip back into the danger zone, but for now she let her exhaustion consume her and comforted herself with the rhythmic, if faint beat of his heart. 

In time, she repeated to herself over and over again like a mantra,

_ Alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.  _


	29. The Sunrise

Zuko woke up slowly. 

His eyelids felt heavy and they….ached? _Yes, they ached_ . In fact, there wasn’t a part of his body that _didn’t_ ache. He let out a soft groan, and let the world flood in. 

Above him was...Fire Nation red? With a jolt of panic, he went to lift himself up, but found he was weighed down with more than just exhaustion. There was a pair of limbs encircling him. Actually, there were several pairs of limbs. 

Confused, he opened his eyes wider. The ceiling was, in fact, the red canvas of a typical Fire Nation tent. But now that he was paying attention, he recognized the feel and weight of the body curled up against him. He recognized the soft tickle of thick hair against his bare chest. 

Sure enough, he looked to his left, and there was Katara. Her chin was nestled against his shoulder, and her arms were firmly encircled around his center, but her soft breaths told him she was asleep.

He briefly recalled the memories of crashing, boots, a sharp pain, a sense of intense relief as his chi rekindled, the sharp pain in his chest, the familiar feel of Katara’s energy mingling with his, her face above him, crying, her lips, too painfully warm against his cold cheek and then more blackness. 

_Hadn’t he been on a ship? In that awful cooler? Then on Appa’s back?_

Zuko turned his head the other way and saw another head nestled against his right side. This one sported black bangs and a familiar green headband. In between his body and Toph’s, Momo was curled and also dozing peacefully. 

Zuko almost snorted when he saw Aang was also curled up on Toph’s other side, and sure enough, to his left, Sokka was snoring on the other side of Katara. He realized they’d pushed all of their bedrolls together and consolidated all their blankets and pillows in the center of the tent to create a kind of pillow fort or cuddle pile with him at the center. 

He pulled the covers back slightly, wincing at the way the simple movement pulled at his sore muscles, so he could examine himself. 

His wrists were slightly pink where the cuffs had been. Zuko assumed Katara had helped heal the brunt of the damage. He felt his neck gingerly. It still felt bruised and tender, and it’d probably take a bit longer to heal.

He’d been stripped to just his pants (thank Agni), but to his complete shock, beside him, Katara was dressed in only her under wrappings. He felt a fierce blush steal over his cheeks when he realized how much skin to skin contact they were sharing.

Skin to skin contact... _right_ , body heat...he put the pieces together. He’d suffered from hypothermia, and Katara was just helping him heal. That didn’t make his blush lessen though. Especially not when she started to stir, her hair tickling his shoulder.

He turned to her, and they were face to face as she opened her eyes a soft smile curving her lips. “Good morning,” she mumbled. 

_Spirits, he could get used to a wake up like this_ , he thought guiltily. 

“Morning,” he breathed. 

Her eyes were sleepy, but they still managed to scan him quickly for any kind of damage. “How are you feeling?” she mumbled, worriedly. 

“Good,” he lied. She frowned, but didn’t challenge him. Her hand reached out to touch the tender flesh of his neck. She let out a sigh, “I’ll work on that later.” She let her hand travel up to his cheek, to the scarred flesh there. 

‘Thank you,” he whispered, trying to hide the emotion sneaking into his voice as he thought about just how scared he’d really been back on that ship, “for not leaving me.”

Her eyebrows creased, “Zuko, we would never have left you behind. That was never an option.”

He shrugged as if hearing those words didn’t feel groundbreaking and world-shattering.

“How long have I uh..been out?” he asked, mainly to break the silence.

“It’s..” she looked down, hesitating, “it’s been two days.” 

He started to jolt himself up, “What!-” but Katara had predicted this, and she gently shoved him back down. “We don’t have time-” he said anxiously. 

“Zuko,” she said in her sternest _don’t challenge me_ voice. “You almost _died_ , okay? In my _arms_ ,” she let out a shaky breath. “Making sure you’re okay is our first priority right now.”

He blushed again, but as he did, he felt Toph begin to wake next to him. He felt her punch him softly on the arm, “Is Lazy Bones here finally up?” Momo chittered and peered at him with big green eyes. Sokka muttered something that sounded like “Everyone shut up,” and Aang called out, too loudly in the quiet of the tent, “Is that Zuko?!’

Sokka, more awake now, turned over, now looking like an excited puppy. ‘Hey, buddy! How’re you doin?”

“Yeah uhh,” Zuko felt shy all of a sudden not used to having so many eyes on him at once and blushing at their concern, “I’m good, thanks to you all f-for saving me, I know that in the past-“

“Ugghhh,” Sokka cut in, “enough self-deprecating gratitude. You’re our friend and friends help each other.” the others all nodded in agreement at this. “Plus, if you kicked it, who would spar with me?” Sokka joked as Katara smacked his arm lightly.

Zuko tried to catch a glimpse past the flap of the tent to see what time of day it was. “Was I really out for two days?” he wondered.

They all nodded solemnly, and Katara explained, “Those chi-blocking cuffs really did a number on you, they’re a terrible, truly awful invention,” he nodded in agreement, rubbing his wrists, “and we think your body just needed to put itself into a light coma to recharge your energy, but it’s a good sign you woke up with the sun today! It means you’re chi is starting to stabilize again!” she smiled at him in encouragement.

“Sugar Queen and I have been monitoring your vitals, and you seemed okay, just asleep, so we didn’t worry too much,” Toph offered.

“Though we were still concerned about the effects of the hypothermia,” Sokka piped up, “so we’ve all been sleeping bunched together like this to generate body heat-”

“-and during the day, I’ve been helping circulate the air around you to help regulate your temperature,” Aang said.

Sokka cut back in, “Yeah, to help keep you warm at night, we’ve been taking turns on Zuko cuddles, though _Katara_ has called dibs on your left side each night, so it hasn’t been very democratic.”

Katara blushed, “It’s because I’m the healer! I need to be close in case something were to happen!”

“Yeah, and _I’m_ a seal-penguin-”

Sensing a brewing argument, Aang stood up, stretching. “How about some breakfast?” He eyed Sokka in particular who was effectively distracted and got up as well, mumbling something about “....ridiculous...while I’m right here...no subtlety whatsoever…”

Taking the hint, Toph crawled out of Zuko’s space and dragged a chattering Momo with her.

\--------------------------------------

Now that it was just the two of them, Zuko self-consciously pulled the blanket up to his chin to cover his bare torso. Feeling self-conscious as well now in her underwrappings, Katara got up and pulled her blue tunic dress over her head before settling herself back down on the bedroll next to Zuko.

“Okay, let me see your neck.” He tilted to give her access to begin her water healing. They were both quiet as she worked. She pulled her hands away. “One more session, and the marks should completely fade.”

She hated the way even the faded purple blotches marred his pale skin. She hated the reminder that he’d let himself be taken prisoner, probably out of some misguided belief he still needed to atone to all of them. 

“Good,” he nodded. Even after two whole days of sleep, dark bags were still visible underneath his eyes, and Katara had to resist the urge to place her thumbs there to smooth them away. 

There was a heavy, stilted silence for a few moments.

He finally looked up at her, and something about his _stupidly_ beautiful unguarded face made Katara want to cry all over again. 

Instead, she smacked his arm like she’d done to Sokka earlier.

“Hey!” he huffed indignantly, “What’s that for-”

“Don’t you ever dare do something like that to me again!” She demanded. His eyes widened as he realized what she was talking about.

“To _you_?” He raised an eyebrow.

“ _Yes_ , to _me!_ I was worried _sick_ . You can’t always just go around... _sacrificing_ yourself for everyone!! You have to think of your own-”

“I don’t do it for everyone” he breathed, cutting her short, voice barely above a whisper. His fingers reached out and cradled the blue beads in the loose strands of Katara’s hair hanging down near him. 

That caught her off guard. She’d been expecting straight up denial. 

“ _What_?”

“I don’t sacrifice myself for _everyone_ .” He dropped the beads and looked up at her, pale yellow eyes heavy with something that pooled in her stomach, stopping her breath, “I do it for _you_.”

“W-what does that mean?” she tried to buy some time, not answering the question in his eyes, _damn his beautiful eyes_. 

He looked down, but not before she caught the flash of disappointment there. He shrugged. “Nothing..Forget I-”

She cut him off by grabbing him by the chin and pulling him up into a kiss.

It was nothing like her first kiss with Jet had been. His kiss had been slow and smooth and practiced, rehearsed down to the way he pulled away, self-assured and in control the whole time. 

No, this kiss was much more frantic and unpracticed. Their teeth briefly clinked as Zuko scrambled to push himself into a better sitting position, to get a better angle. She ran her hands up through his long, messy hair, _I’ve been dying to do that_ , and without meaning to she let her tongue slip into his mouth, _huh, that’s an interesting sensation, I’ve never tried that before-_

Suddenly, she became incredibly conscious of what they- what she’d just done. 

She pulled back abruptly, and they were both left staring at each other, pupils blown wide, breathing heavy. 

Neither of them said anything for a second, and then Zuko’s face split into the biggest grin she’d ever seen. She watched his eyes turn into happy slits, and her right hand came up to trace the edges of his scar. _Just like back in Ba Sing Se, where it all started._

Zuko's own hand came up to play with the pendant of her necklace, while his eyes traced her face. They sat like that for a few moments, just sort of _taking each other in_ , when Zuko opened his mouth to break the silence.

“ _Katara-_ ” his voice was unbearably tender, and Katara couldn’t let him finish just then.

She pulled him into another kiss to shut him up, but this time she didn’t rush it. Eventually their lips parted just enough so their foreheads could touch. 

“ _Zuko_.” She pulled back and let her head fall on his shoulder. He obligingly wrapped an arm around her. 

They'd have plenty of time to talk about what this meant. And they’d have to talk eventually of course.

Just like they’d have to regroup for the Day of Black Sun invasion. Like they’d have to teach Aang firebending. Like they’d have to end and endless war and somehow pick up the pieces of all four nations... 

But for now, all Katara wanted was to sit next to the boy she used to hate and hold his hand while the sun came up.

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter for THIS fic...Thank you very much to everyone who followed and kept up with it, I really appreciated reading your comments!! They helped inspire me to keep writing.
> 
> I AM continuing this storyline in a sequel that will continue through S3, but with Zuko there of course (and the Zutara ;) )
> 
> For now, au revoir et bonne nuit!


End file.
